


Time Has Changed Me

by alltoowell



Category: Nashville (TV), Without a Trace
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Family, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 72,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoowell/pseuds/alltoowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy is trying to concentrate on getting his daughters through Rayna's accident, but then Danny Taylor shows up in Nashville, seeking out his old friend-now living under a new identity. It's been a long time since they've seen each other, who knows what will happen? And just what does Danny want from the Mayor? May become Danny/Teddy(Martin)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teddy the Father, Martin the old friend.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I...do not know that I'm doing with my life, but this is how I spent my night. It's probably a waste of time because I'm not sure how many WaT fans really watch Nashville or vice versa, let alone Danny/Martin shippers who watch Nashville for Eric's beautiful face (that might just be me, actually) plus I'm aware Teddy is nooot the most popular character in Nashville...but I have had this idea in my head for a while now. Not a lot is revealed in this chapter because I want to see people's reactions first before committing 100% to another multi-chapter (Promises and Politics will be updated soon I promise!)
> 
> As this is an AU fic, I'm disregarding Peggy and Teddy's relationship. I may mention her if I continue with this, but they probably won't be together romantically and she is noooot pregnant. Nope, no way. This takes place sometime after the Nashville Season One Finale, the WaT stuff I'll reveal later I guess...
> 
> This is un-beated because I had to publish this before I talked myself out of it haha. I hope somebody likes it! Review or PM me, I would really like feedback on this!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Nashville, Without A Trace or any character in this chapter. (Unfortunately!)

 

"Are we going to see Mom today?" Daphne's voice was cheery, for which Teddy was supremely thankful. These last few days, his youngest daughter had been anything but her typical bubbly self. He was glad that yesterday's visit with her recovering mother had obviously lightened her spirits a little.

"Maybe later," he said, although he knew he knew this ' _maybe_ ' was simply for his own sake. When it came to his girls, he was far too easily persuaded. Besides, even if things between him and Rayna were far from perfect, she was still the mother of his children and he was in no doubt whatsoever that they needed her.

As Daphne began to tell him all about a song she had written to sing her mother better, Teddy realised his older daughter was being much too quiet. He looked over to where she sat beside her sister at the kitchen counter.

"How about you Maddie?" he asked, trying to draw her glazed eyes back to him. "Did you help Daphne?"

Maddie shook her head, then looked away. Of course, she may have been back to acting like she didn't care about her mother now, but when they had first heard the news about Rayna and Deacon's car accident, she had cried so much Teddy had felt his heart rip in two.

"Uh, Daph, why don't you go practice that song so it's perfect for your Mom, huh?"

The younger girl was no fool-she knew why her father wanted her to leave them alone for a while. So, with a quick glance at her older sister, she hopped off the stool and skipped down the hall.

Teddy waited until he heard the click of her bedroom door closing before taking the seat she had just vacated. "You wanna talk about it?"

Maddie bit her lip. "When Mom gets out of hospital, do I stay here?"

Oh. Right. She was concerned about her place, now her world had been quite literally turned on it's side. Before the accident, she had been adamant that she wanted to live with him upon finding out they had lied to her about...well, about her paternity. Eventually, she had made up with Rayna, but the damage had already been done to their relationship, and they had all decided it was probably best if she _did_  stay with Teddy for a while.

Then her mother had almost died.

"I would love you to," Teddy admitted. He had never been good with saying the right thing, so he knew no words he would speak now would heal her wounds. "But...you can go back, if you need to."

Maddie looked up with him, those eyes he had once convinced himself were reflections of his- but that now, when the truth was out in the open and he had been forced to say the words 'I'm not your biological father' out loud, he saw they were Deacon's. It should anger him more than it did.

But the piece of paper in Rayna's closet that said he and Maddie did not have matching DNA didn't mean he had loved her any less; the last thirteen years wherein this girl had been the centre of his world did not disappear because she had read it.

_He_  was her father, and he always would be. The last week itself had shown that to be true. Deacon had called to talk to Maddie after the accident, but she had told Teddy she wasn't ready to speak to him. It did hurt that he knew someday she would be ready, but he knew his oldest daughter well enough to know that she wasn't about to begin calling the other man 'Daddy' or requesting to stay in his spare room at weekends. She was a smart girl who he prided to be one of his greatest accomplishments-as well as her sister, of course.

Their relationship would withstand this hurdle...he was sure of it.

Maddie's eyes filled with tears. "I want to stay with you forever," she said and when he pulled her into his arms she began to sob. "But Mom needs me. If I stay with you, she'll think I'm still mad at her...and then she might not get better..."

It was an excuse, and a poorly thought out one by a teenager desperate to be loved and wanted by both her parents. Teddy knew this, so he just held the broken girl of his a little tighter.

He had know this was coming, really. He'd known it from the moment he'd taken the girls to see their mother in the hospital for the first time. Rayna was still unconscious, her face bruised and her skin pale and all the wires connected to her body. Maddie had held her mother's hand, and he'd been standing far enough away to be unable to make out what she was whispering, yet his imagination filled in the blanks.

She felt guilty for kicking off at her mother. Even if they had reconciled, she was afraid of Rayna thinking she didn't love her. More than that, she'd come close to losing her Mom, it was bound to shock her so hard she would want to be near her again. It was a natural reaction, Teddy told himself.

And it would be selfish to resent her for this, of course. It would be feeding into his own insecurities. He couldn't allow his own apprehension regarding Rayna and Deacon to hurt his daughter.

He wouldn't let how he felt push Maddie away. So he pulled back from their hug and looked her in the eyes, cupping her face that still looked so little to him in his hands and wiping her tears with his thumb.

"I love you, Maddie. Nothing will ever change that."

"I know," she said, blinking furiously. "I love you too, Daddy."

"So I understand if you go home to be with your Mom when she gets out of hospital. I guess I'll just see you and your sister at the end of the week, when we swap again."

This children/house timeshare he had Rayna had agreed on was starting to become a challenge with both of their jobs and Rayna's new relationship, but they would made it work. They had to.  _They_ were the parents.

His words seemed to have eased Maddie's concerns a little. She wiped her eyes, forcing a little smile. "I'm sorry."

_She_  was apologising...to  _him_? He and Rayna had lied to her for her entire existence, and  _she_  was saying sorry?

He took her hand in his own-the difference in size reminding him of the days when she used to want to hold her father's hand all the time. A lot of things had changed since then, but he told himself he could still be the hero she needed him to be. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

He was about to crack a joke, try and make her laugh, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sighing, he looked apologetically at his daughter.

"I'll go help Daphne with her song," she said, and before the unexpected visitor had knocked again, she was gone.

With a sigh, he got up from the stool and made his way to the front door. He assumed it was Tandy, or someone equally as familiar with his security team who controlled his gate.

As long as it wasn't some crazed paparazzi demanding to know how the girls were handling their mother's accident, Teddy decided it didn't really matter who it was.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" he called out to whoever it was incessantly knocking on the other side of the door. He turned the lock and the handle, hoping that it wasn't work-related.

Being the Mayor of Nashville meant he never knew when a problem would arise, but he had hoped the people on the council would have the good grace to leave him alone this weekend so he could be with his children after their mother's accident.

Being the Mayor of Nashville, being Rayna James' husband, he had learned to expect the unexpected. But no politics-101 preparation by Lamar has prepared him for just who was standing on his doorstep.

"Good Morning, Mr Mayor," the soft, yet gravelly voice that had once been the undertone of his dreams said.

His brain couldn't function. Teddy just stared at this man, with the cocky smirk on that familiar face, his black hair tousled and wet from the rain outside, his brown eyes unblinking as he looked at Teddy like fourteen years and eight hundred odd miles had not passed since the last time they were together.

_Danny_. _Danny Taylor_.

He tried to speak, but no words would come. He felt like his throat was on fire, his heart was racing in his chest, his palms began to sweat.

"Mr Taylor says he's with the FBI, sir," a security guard Martin had not realised was standing with Danny on his front porch explained. "He wishes to speak to you about personal matters."

Personal matters? Teddy's first thought was of the Cumberland deal. Where the FBI on it? Had it  _escalated_  that far? He knew the DA was planning to investigate it, but he had never imagined...

Almost as soon as this thought appeared in his mind he shook it from there. Danny was a FBI Agent, yes. But he found missing people, he didn't uncover dodgy business cover-ups.

Or did he? It had been fourteen years. A lot could change in that time. For all he knew, Danny could be working on an entire different unit now.

Fourteen years could change a person. Teddy should know that, shouldn't he?

"I think I can take it from here," Danny said to the security guard, offering up his most charming smile that made Teddy shiver a little.

The security guard looked at Teddy, obviously skeptical of leaving the Mayor alone. Teddy forced himself to nod in agreement-about all his brain could manage to do.

As the larger man turned and began to walk away, Teddy considered the ways to get out of this situation. Slam the door in Danny's face; run to his car and get the hell away from Nashville; leave this damn state and this figure from his past in a cloud of dust and start over, start again.

None of which he could do, of course. Because he had responsibilities here, as Mayor; because there were two little girls in the other room who needed him; because Danny Taylor had no claim to the man that was Teddy Conrad.

"Are you going to invite me in?" Danny's voice, breaking through his thoughts. "Or are we supposed to have this conversation on your porch, a few feet away from the reporters?"

He couldn't see them from his door, but he could hear them calling out his name, Maddie's name, Daphne's name. Rayna's name.

"I have nothing to say to you," Teddy said, finally finding his voice. He went to close the door, but Danny was quicker. He wedged his foot in the doorway, jamming it open.

Danny let out a little chuckle, and that was all it took for Teddy to feel twenty-six again, driving in the car with his best friend humming along to a stupid Spanish song on the radio. He was falling in love for real for the first time in his life with somebody who looked at him like he hung the moon and the stars. He was someone else, for the split second that the laugh lasted for, and it was all too much, all too soon.

Fourteen years, and Teddy was still not ready for this sure-to-be-disastrous reunion; the hundreds of questions this man in front of him must have; the anger, the disappointment, the confusion.

"Thing is, Martin," Danny said, raising an eyebrow in a way that would once have made his stomach flip, instead of the knot that was currently forming there. The sound of that name, of all it meant and the promise it held, it made his hands shake. " _I_  have a lot to say to  _you_."


	2. When Blackmail doesn't work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is really short, but I can't get this fic out of my head so I just write whatever comes to me whenever. I know I planned to wait until I had a few reviews before writing more, but I feel like I have to do this now-if people read it or not it's a bonus!
> 
> If you are reading, please comment to let me know what you think!

"You shouldn't be here," Teddy said, pacing the length of his kitchen.

Danny Taylor sat in the same spot Maddie had moments ago, looking smug and amused.

He looked around the kitchen, taking in the glass chandeliers; the marble counter tops; the shining floor Isobel, Teddy's maid, had polished not two hours ago. "So this is your place?"

Hint of something that might once have been admiration, but sounded closer to disapproval to Teddy's ears. He didn't move, he didn't speak. He just stood, feeling like a mouse waiting to be caught by a vicious cat.

Danny whistled. "It's nice. Really nice." He looked up, but Teddy looked away. This whole thing was bad enough, meeting Danny's eyes would make it damn near impossible. "You did good for yourself."

"What do you want?" Teddy's voice was low, quiet so the girls wouldn't overhear this particular conversation. He couldn't imagine what this would look like to their already-confused little minds.

A shadow of hurt passed across Danny's face-this lasted merely a second before his expression was neutral again. "Gee, Fitzie, it's nice to see you too."

"Don't call me that." The words, spoken harshly, were out of his mouth so quickly Teddy couldn't stop them. "Stop it. I-I'm not... _that_  person anymore."

Couldn't even force himself to say the name out loud.

Danny just blinked, like maybe he had expected this reaction. "Right," he said, his tone more than a tad patronising. "You're Mayor Teddy Conrad now, right?"

Teddy folded his arms. "How do you know?"

Danny smirked again, and wow, that was beginning to get irritating. "Hey, I do my research."

Without considering his next actions past the point of getting Danny successfully out the door, Teddy did what he had hoped he would never have to do in a difficult situation like this. He left the room for a moment to head to his study, and when he came back, he had his checkbook and a pen in his hand.

"How much will it take," he said, sounding like a crazed mafia boss or something equally as ridiculous, "for you to go back to New York and forget about the last ten minutes?"

Danny's face seemed to harden, Teddy saw the shutter in his eyes going up. He stared at Teddy like he was someone he had never seen before, all the familiarity and friendly banter chased off with one single sentence.

He stared at Teddy like he was a complete stranger, which was exactly what he had become.

"I didn't come here to be paid off," Danny said, anger evident, not so much in his words but in the spaces between them.

Now that Teddy looked at him, he saw that this man had changed too. Yes, he had the same loving eyes, but they held less excitement than he remembered. There were lines on his forehead and around his mouth, where there had not been any before. There was a small scar, about the length of a paper clip, above his right eyebrow; a scar which origins Teddy did not deserve to know.

And there was something about the way Danny held himself as he'd walked through Teddy's door and back into his life: his posture was that of someone with much more maturity than he'd had when they last met; his walk spoke of a contentment, a calming confidence-like perhaps during their time apart, Danny had finally found the missing piece of his puzzle.

There was a time, of course, that Teddy had hoped maybe  _he_  could really be that missing piece.

"Look, what do you want from me?" Seeing this blast from his past had drawn all energy from Teddy. He didn't want to go round in circles with this man, he just wanted him to leave, so he could go back to pretending Danny Taylor had never existed.

"What I've always wanted," Danny said frankly, and his words made the hair on the back of Teddy's neck stand up on ends. "I want you to come home."


	3. How Martin became Teddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Flashback!chapter...not a good one, unfortunately. I'm not sure who comes across worse in this chapter, Martin/Teddy or Danny. Well, regardless, they were both very confused, try not to hold it against those poor boys I put through hell so much!

_When he opened his eyes, he was tucked beneath the sinks in the men's bathrooms at the New York courthouse. His knees were pulled to his chest, his entire body was shaking so hard and the hammering in his chest had subsided only a little in the seconds he had been passed out._

_Another panic attack-or whatever this state he kept working himself into was clinically called. He blinked away the tears forming in his eyes, then tried to focus on his breathing instead._

_In, out. In, out._

_"Here you are," a voice said, and before Martin could stop himself, he jerked away from the shadow of the person standing above him._

_His father crouched to get a good look at Martin, the expression of hurt evident on his face at the ridiculous thought his son might fear him. "Martin," he said, his voice softer than he had ever heard it before, laced with confusion and helplessness. "It's alright. It's me."_

_He was such a disaster, such a mess. He was a man, for God's sake. But here he was, crying like a child in a public bathroom after running out of the courtroom when his friend had needed his support._

_"D-Danny," Martin managed to murmur. His father shook his head._

_"Danny is fine. Martin, let me take you home."_

_He held his hand out for Martin to take for a second, but Martin couldn't and so he quickly pulled it back. His father cleared his throat and stood up, straightening his tie in the mirror. "It's over, Martin. You've said what you had to say; you've given your testimony. It's out of our hands now."_

_Out of his hands, but stuck in his head. The months since their ordeal had been traumatic enough, being on the witness stand today had broken apart what was left of the man he once was._

_Reluctantly, and regretting it with every movement, Martin edged his way out from under the sinks. "I-I'm sorry I left like that."_

_He stood up, shoulder-to-shoulder with his father now. He looked at the older man in the mirror-questioned silently, but not for the first time, how on earth it could be that they were so closely related. He wondered why his Dad had been the one to find him; he wondered how the greatest stranger in his life knew where he would be hiding._

_The car ride was painfully quiet. Neither of them spoke, until they were parked outside Martin's apartment complex. He watched as his father unbuckled his seatbelt._

_"You're coming in?" Martin asked, the words tumbling from his mouth with little regard with how they sounded spoken aloud._

_His father just nodded. "We have some things to discuss."_

_What things? That Martin was a failure? That he no longer wanted him associated with their well-respected family? That he had been right all along when he'd warned his son the FBI was not for him?_

_The panic attack had taken all the energy Martin had possessed, so he didn't argue. He just slipped out of the passenger seat and followed his father into the building._

_"Pack your things," Victor told Martin when they were safely inside his little apartment._

_Normally, he would have protested. Staying with his parents would only make him feel worse, he was sure. Still, he had to admit that being away from Danny for a while was appealing._

_He didn't think his slowly-vanishing sanity could handle any more of the Danny-Elena love fest that had swept the office up. It was his own fault, of course. He'd had hundreds of chances to make a move on Danny, to make his feelings known, to make things work between them. But since that horrible two weeks they'd spent together in the basement of some nutcase's log cabin, Martin couldn't find it in himself to care about any type of relationship in his life._

_It made it even worse that Danny had already gotten mostly back to the way he had been before their kidnapping. He was laughing again, cracking jokes. When they had been recovering in hospital, he had even flirted with the nurses. And now, he was building a new life with Elena._

_Meanwhile, Martin was tortured by nightmares of their time as hostages. He was haunted by his new-found knowledge- the number of minutes it took to for someone to bleed out when they stabbed themselves in the throat with a pencil; the number of days a little girl could go without food before she gave up and begged them to kill her; the language of terror, the meaning of various screams. The number of times he could have done something-should have done something-but was too terrified to take action._

_In a way, he resented Danny for moving on from the pain. His friend was hurting too, of course. He'd even broken down in the middle of Martin's testimony. But he had a woman who loved him holding his hand, a step-daughter who thought he hung the moon to go home to, a life beyond the abuse they suffered when their undercover-stint went horribly wrong._

_Getting away from his friend before the love he had once felt for him changed to hatred seemed like a good idea in Martin's mind._

_He packed what little things that did not remind him of what had happened. Clothes, basic necessities. While he was retrieving his shaving foam from the bathroom cabinet, his father picked up a Christmas photo of the team that was sitting on Martin's bedside table._

_"They'll miss you," he said._

_Martin tossed the shaving foam into the suitcase. "They'll survive. I'm useless at work, anyway."_

_"I believe their bond with you goes far beyond the job, Martin." He didn't really know what to say to that, so Martin just shrugged. His father pointed to Danny's face, smiling widely in the picture next to Martin. "Especially him."_

_Suddenly, Martin felt uncomfortable with the turn this conversation had taken. He didn't want to go into this-not now and certainly not with his father of all people. So he took the picture out of his father's hands and set it back where it belonged, by the bed he no longer had use for now he wasn't sleeping at night._

_Then, he turned away from Victor and continued to pack._

* * *

_"Where are we going?" Martin asked, taking in the unfamiliar turn-off. He must have fallen asleep, because it was dark now, and they had been driving for hours. "Why aren't we going to the airport? Are you driving to DC?"_

_"It's better this way," his father told him, sounding more desperate to reassure himself than Martin and not really answering any of his questions._

_"Dad?" Martin asked, his voice sounding like a child's. He sounded so small, so in-need of something he couldn't put a name to. "What's going on?"_

_"My father died when I was five years old," Victor said, and Martin realised they were obviously not having the same conversation. "I barely remember him and my mother only re-married after I had moved out. It's no excuse, but I thought you should understand that I really didn't have much to go on."_

_"You're not making sense," Martin said, rubbing his forehead to soothe the ache that was surfacing there. He was still so tired, so weak from earlier, he couldn't handle this cryptic talk._

_"I tried to do right by you. But my career has always come ahead of my family, even when I tried to tell myself it didn't."_

_Was his father..._ apologising _? Martin felt his cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. He had never heard this man sound...sorry before. He didn't know what reply his dad wanted from him. "Look, Dad-"_

_"I haven't been a good father; I know. Financially I've always supported you, but there is more to being a parent than that."_

_"Dad, it's okay-"_

_"No, no it isn't. But it will be."_

_It was a little too late for the father-son fishing trips and bedtime stories he had craved as a child; nothing Victor could do or say would take back the last twenty-six years Martin had spent seeking his dad's approval only to constantly fall short. But if it would end this conversation quicker, Martin would agree to anything. "Yeah, sure-"_

_"-Open the glove compartment, Martin."_

_Martin blinked at his father, who never took his eyes off the long stretch of road in front of them. He snuck a glance at the compartment in question, then looked back to Victor. "Why?"_

_"You'll see."_

_This seemed like a really bad end to an action movie, or maybe a horror film-Martin couldn't decide. Was there a gun stashed there? Was his father going to ask him to do something crazy?_

_With a deep breath and some reluctance, Martin pulled back the slot to the compartment. There wasn't a gun, or something equally as exciting. It was filled with...papers._

_"What are these?"_

_A birth certificate, a driver's license with a southern code along the top, more documentation belonging to a man whose name rang no bells in Martin's mind._

_"Your name is Teddy Conrad. You're the son of Henry Conrad. He's a politician for the state of Nashville. He divorced your mother when you were young and you lived with her. Now, in your late twenties, you're returning to Nashville to stay with him."_

_His words were coming so fast, hitting Martin so hard, like spitballs fired from the back row of his high school English class. "W-what are you talking about?"_

_"Witness protection programme," Victor illiterated. "I'm sure you've heard about it, Martin."_

_"Well, y-yeah but...I mean, I never agreed-"_

_"So you_ don't _wish to start over somewhere else? You_ don't _want to be someone else, if only for a while? A fresh start_ won't _do you the absolute world of good?"_

_Martin's head was pounding with the struggle to concentrate. "I-I mean yeah, of course, but-"_

_"-no buts, Martin." Victor continued to drive, never once turning to look at him. "I can't risk the bastard who is responsible for your current state getting out of prison or telling his associates to hurt you."_

_"B-but, what about Danny?" If Martin was in danger, so was his friend. He couldn't just clear off, knowing Danny and Elena and Sofie could be hurt while he was safe hundreds of miles away._

_"Agent Taylor will be fine. I give you my word, Martin."_

_What made Victor so sure he could protect Danny, but not his own son?_

_Martin looked down at the papers in his lap. Teddy Conrad. The letters on the page in front of him began to swim as his eyes filled with tears. His father wanted rid of him. He wanted him gone, completely. Erased from their family and erased from his life._

_Could Martin really blame him?_

_"I've never even been to Nashville," Martin murmured, acutely aware that he sounded like a petulant toddler who had been dragged on a road trip he didn't want to go on._

_"You'll soon adjust."_

_"W-what about my job?"_

_Finally, Victor turned to his son. "Do you really wish to return to the FBI?"_

_Martin didn't reply. There was no right answer. Whatever he said would be wrong._

_"That's what I thought," his father said, looking back at the road again. "Henry is an old friend of mine. I've briefed him on your situation, he is more than happy to help."_

_Sniffing, Martin asked, "Do I have a job in Nashville?"_

_Victor shook his head. "I'm sure Henry can find you something, if you wish."_

_Politics. The idea made Martin want to laugh out loud. He would rather die than go into that sort of world._

_"Won't everybody wonder where I've gone?" he asked, considering his mother but seeing only Danny's worried face in his mind._

_"I will take care of it."_

_"Dad, they find missing people for a living. They can track me down. They_ will _."_

_"They won't find you," Victor said, quite possibly the first promise he had ever made Martin. "I will make sure of it."_

* * *

_It was later that night, unpacking in Henry's spare room after his father left, when Martin found the picture. The team Christmas photo. It had been taken from it's frame and slipped in among his socks and underwear. His father had written a message on the back at some point when Martin had been busy fretting about which shirts to take._

Do the right thing.

_Had Victor meant the right thing was to call them? To tell them himself where he was?_

_Or was the right thing to stay away, somewhere he couldn't shame his family and friends any more than he already had?_

_Crumpling this last reminder of his old life in his fist, Martin-no, Teddy, stuffed the photograph into the inside pocket of his suitcase, somewhere he would never have to look at it again._


	4. The difference years make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so this chapter was mostly to draw a contrast between the ways Martin/Teddy has changed since the flashback in the previous chapter. Life does that sometimes, but don't worry, I will let him redeem himself eventually.

"I'd like you to leave now," Teddy said, biting back a sharp remark as Danny rolled his eyes.

"Jesus Christ, did we not just establish I'm not going anywhere until you hear me out?" He was tapping his fingers against Teddy's countertop, impatient and immature and so Danny that Teddy's heart kept skipping beats.

"I don't have time for this," he said, thinking fast. "I-I have to be somewhere."

Danny folded his arms and blinked expectantly at Teddy. "Oh yeah? Where?"

"My wife is in hospital," he blurted out, then he inwardly cringed when Danny flinched at the words 'my wife.' "Well, my ex-wife," he added, to ease the blow, even if had been intended.

Danny looked up and stared at him blankly. "That is the worst excuse I have ever heard."

"It's true!" Teddy argued, and then he remembered he was the freaking Mayor of Nashville- it was beyond unprofessional for him to argue with a FBI agent. "I don't have to justify myself to you."

"No," Danny agreed, nodding. "You don't. You've made that quite clear."

Teddy felt a blush rise on his cheeks at the cold words. "Listen, Danny," he said quietly, his resolve broken only slightly by the other man's obvious hurt. "I can't do this with you right now. I-I have a family to take care of, I'm in the middle of my first term as Mayor, I have far too much going on to get into...this. Maybe in a few months..."

Danny burst out laughing, making Teddy physically jump. "You think I came here to steal you away? Sweep you off your feet? Aw man, all these country love songs are really going to your head."

Teddy blinked, stunned momentarily. "But you said-"

"That I needed to talk to you. Which I do." Danny eyed Teddy up and down, like he was considering if he had  _really_ found the man he'd been looking for. "Is this my cue to explain?"

Teddy couldn't speak, the heat of Danny's eyes on his body was too much for the part of his brain that controlled speech to contend with. So he nodded, wondering, for just a split second, why the fact Danny had not come here to bring him home made him feel something so close to disappointment.

"I do want you to come home. But not for me. Look, Mar-uh,  _Teddy_ , it...it's your father," Danny said, his tone suddenly serious, the upbeat laughter of the last minute forgotten with those three words.

_It's your father._

It was enough to shock Teddy's brain back to its original state. "I think I've heard enough. You can go now."

He stood and made his way to the door, ready to have Danny physically removed if that's what it took to get rid of him, to get rid of this conversation and all of the confusion and resentment resurfaced along with it.

Danny looked...shocked. He shook his head. "Come on, Martin. I know you and he never really...but listen, he's sick. He-"

"How many times do I have to tell you to  _stop_ calling me that?" Teddy's voice was louder than he intended, and it occurred to him that he could not remember ever really shouting at Danny before. He must have, over the course of their five year friendship, but in that moment all Teddy could think was:  _Do you see now? I am not the same man you knew._

"Dad?" Maddie's voice, and when he looked up she was standing under the arch leading into the hall. Daphne was standing beside her, eyes wide as they watched their father's temper disappear.

He didn't know how much they had heard; he didn't if they'd ever heard him shout like that, but he had always prided himself as a calm father. Obviously, that ideal didn't hold much merit anymore.

"Ah, so these are the kids you're so crazy about," Danny said, the damage of of Teddy's earlier tone and words forgotten as his expression changed from alarmed to wide-smiled. He stood up, made his way over to the girls and politely shook both of their hands. "I'm an old friend of your dad's. My name's Danny."

Both girls returned his smile. Maddie blushed when he took her hand. Daphne giggled.

"Daddy's never mentioned you before," Daphne said.

Maddie elbowed her, but it was too late. Still, Danny never once faltered. "Oh well, that's because we didn't part on the greatest terms." He turned back to Teddy. "Right, buddy?"

Teddy swallowed and forced himself to nod. He had to give credit where it was due, Danny was damn good at thinking on his feet. Had he even know Teddy had kids?

"How come?" Daphne asked, running up and taking a seat at the kitchen counter.

Danny walked back to where Teddy stood. He clasped his shoulder; Teddy tried very hard not to squirm away.

"It's a long story," Danny shrugged. "I'm sure your dad will tell you sometime."

As his daughters looked to him, Teddy felt his cheek flame. He was going to  _kill_ Danny Taylor for putting him in this situation. "Maybe."

"Is that why you two were fighting?" Maddie asked, looking from her father to the stranger in their kitchen and back again.

"Yeah, you were yelling at him, Dad," Daphne chirped up.

Danny whistled and turned to Teddy. "Damn, you've got two smart kids." Then, he winked at the girls. "You must get it from your mother," he stage-whispered as they both laughed.

Then, a thought occurred to Teddy. This was  _his_ house,  _his_ life. He wasn't going to let Danny Taylor walk right in, win over his daughters and convince him to return to New York and leave everything he had worked for behind. He was Mayor Teddy Conrad. And  _he_ was in control.

"Girls, go get ready. We're going to go visit your mother."

Maddie and Daphne- set alight by this prospect, practically skipped out of the room, with mumbles of 'Will you do my hair?' and two small waves after Danny said it was his pleasure to meet them. When they left Teddy alone with this ghost of the past, he headed straight for the front door and held it open wide.

"You sure have two cute kids there," Danny said with a soft and genuine smile.

"You're going to have to go now," Teddy explained slowly, since the other man was still standing in his kitchen, hands in his pockets, like he truly believed he belonged there.

"You haven't even  _listened_ to what I have to say-"

"-You've said enough," Teddy replied, gesturing for Danny to make his way out the door.

"No, I  _haven't_. Listen...if you'd stop acting like the spoilt bastard you've turned into for fifty seconds you would be able to understand why I'm here-"

" _I. Don't. Care_." He was being harsh, rude, but just who did Danny think he was? Showing up like this in Teddy's world after all these years? Why was he threatening the life his once-best-friend had built himself?

Wasn't Elena enough for him anymore?

"But it's your father. Your  _Dad._ He has cancer, okay? He's sick.  _Really_ sick." Danny took a deep breath. "He's  _dying_ , man."

If Danny had expected his words to reduce Teddy to an emotional mess, he was sadly mistaken. Teddy did not flinch, and it wasn't even an act. He didn't feel shock; he didn't feel grief. He had stopped feeling anything for the man Danny was talking about a long time ago.

"I appreciate you coming all this way to fill me in," Teddy said politely, although this was a lie. A phone call after the funeral would have sufficed. Or better yet, no contact at all. Teddy could have continued his life minus this piece of news with no bother at all.

Danny just stared at him, a look on his face that Teddy was glad he couldn't read. "You're something else, you know that?" Luckily, he seemed to be finally taking on board Teddy's many hints, as he walked right up to him-closer to the door. "What the hell  _happened_ to you?"

 _You,_ Teddy thought.

More answers began to surface in his mind:  _I took the chance at a fresh start; I grew up._

"Life happened," he said honestly. "I changed."

"Yeah," Danny said, once again eyeing him up and down, except this time he didn't even attempt to hide the disappointment in his eyes. "I can see that."

And then, just as quickly as he'd breezed into Teddy's life again, Danny Taylor walked back out of it.


	5. Concern and Confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Very sorry this took a while guys, school/exams etc. managed to get in the way. However, it is pretty long so hopefully you can forgive me for the delay! Also, I'm thinking the next chapter should be Danny's POV--let me know what you think of that! I had planned this to be a Teddy/Martin only POV type of story but I feel like I should explore how Danny's life has turned out too. I hope you don't mind! As always, thank you so much for comments/kudos etc. it means the absolute world to know people are reading my fic!x

It had been almost 24 hours since Danny Taylor had appeared on his doorstep armed with misguided good intentions and all the wrong things to say. Teddy had spent the last day trying to re-train his mind to forget about the other man.

And he'd accomplished it too- well, he was  _getting_ there, at least- when he heard  _that_ self-satisfied voice behind him in the local coffee shop as he paid the barista at the counter. "Taking a break from running your state into the ground?"

He was joking, of course, and thankfully nobody in the coffee shop seemed to have heard him, but Teddy blushed anyway.

He turned on his heel, ready to ignore Danny and walk right out again when he felt a hand on his arm. He tried to glare at Danny, but the brown eyes he'd once fallen for, now blinking at him hopefully, made this near impossible.

"Can we talk?"

"I think we did enough of that yesterday," Teddy said, forcing him to jerk away from Danny's touch. But, as much as he knew he should, he just couldn't make himself storm out.

Danny smiled, apologetic but weary- an olive branch between two old friends whose relationship time had not been kind to. "I want to apologize."

That was news to Teddy. Shouldn't  _he_ be the one apologizing? He  _had_ sort of kicked Danny out of his house, after all.

"You don't have to do that," Teddy replied quietly, unable to ignore the guilt beginning to form inside him.

"Yes, I do." Danny gestured to the table furthest from the window. "Do you have a few minutes?"

Feigning deliberation regarding this proposition, Teddy glanced at his watch, even though he had nowhere to be. He should say no, excuse himself politely and walk out the door, try and forget this had ever happened. But Danny was looking at him like they had not spent the last fourteen years in two separate states, like perhaps he hadn't shown up in Teddy's life to destroy it.

With a reluctant sigh, Teddy nodded. "You have five minutes."

Danny smiled wider, taking a seat with his own hot beverage while Teddy picked up some milk and sugar sachets. "So where are your kids today?" Danny asked.

"Their aunt took them to see their Mom," Teddy admitted. "It was getting a little... _awkward_ , my being there."

Danny nodded. "They really seem like two great kids. The little one looks like you." Teddy didn't answer; instead he handed Danny one milk and two sugars- convincing himself it was neither sad nor pathetic that after all this time he still remembered the way the other man took his coffee. To his surprise, Danny shook his head. "Actually, I just drink it black these days."

Teddy told himself that a stupid little change like that one should not make him feel like his heart had just been sliced open, but he couldn't deny that it did. It was such a minor detail, but it had been an intimate one between two people so close they could sometimes finish each other's sentences.

If he hadn't viewed Danny as a stranger before, then he sure did now.

Teddy added his own sugar with a shaking hand then took a sip of hot coffee, reveling in how the burn of it along his throat hurt, in spite of the numbness he felt everywhere else.

"So yesterday I was a little... _harsh_ with you," Danny murmured, and Teddy took a little comfort in the fact that apologizing did not seem particularly  _easy_ for him. That much hadn't changed, at least. "I should have broken it to you a little more gently. It's bound to be a shock for you, me showing up here out of nowhere and springing news about your dad's health on you like that."

"A little warning you were coming would have been nice," Teddy agreed, smiling for the first time in Danny's presence.

Danny shrugged. "I was worried you would tell me not to come."

"You had to be face-to-face to tell me?"

Danny looked down at the floor. "Maybe I just wanted to see for myself that you're okay."

Teddy felt a tug inside his chest. "And? What's the verdict?"

He seemed to consider this. "You've got two wonderful daughters who you obviously love very much, but you're newly divorced and struggling to figure out just how you fit into the family dynamic now you don't see them as much as you'd like. You have a difficult relationship with your ex-wife, and you don't accept nearly as much blame as you should for that, and deep down you want her to be happy-but that's hard to admit when you're the one going home alone everyday." Danny began tapping his fingers again, a habit he did not have back when Teddy had loved him. "On top of all that, you're battling through your first term as Mayor, trying to keep everybody happy and not screw things up- but nobody told you it would be this hard to be needed by an entire state."

Teddy tilted his head to one side. "Am I that obvious?"

Danny shook his head and laughed. "Nope. Actually, I got most of that from a magazine I read on the plane over here."

Teddy chuckled before he remembered to stop himself. "It's rare that I'm portrayed so well by the media."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "Most victims who find their way into the witness protection programme don't go for as high-profile lifestyles as you have, you know."

The thought had crossed Teddy's mind before, of course. Was it really safe for him to put himself out there, safe for his family to be photographed with him? But of course that kind of thinking usually led back to Danny, so it had become a reflex action to rid his brain of it before it could do real damage to his heart or his conscience.

"I stopped needing protected, I guess." The truth was, Teddy's new life had, at some point, changed from a means of security to the chance of re-inventing himself. He couldn't pinpoint the moment New York became his old life, or when the invisible line between who he he once was and who he now could be had been drawn. Perhaps around the time he had received a letter in the mail, forwarded from some federal office in Washington that he guessed belonged to his father, assuring him of his safety and encouraging him to come out of hiding now that the men behind his leaving had been imprisoned for the foreseeable future. Of course, by then, he had met Rayna. By then, he had already found what his life in New York had been missing.

Teddy looked up to meet Danny's curious gaze. A thousands things he should say sprang to his mind in that single moment:  _I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye; I never wanted you to blame yourself; I've missed you._

But instead, he caught sight of Danny's bare ring-finger and managed to blurt out, relief far too evident, "You didn't marry Elena?"

For a splinter of a second a shadow of hurt clouded Danny's features, but then he looked away from Teddy. "I did. But things...they didn't work out like I'd hoped."

It surprised Teddy that he didn't sense even a hint of bitterness in that tone. At the present moment, he and Rayna could barely manage to be in the same room as each other without it turning into a blame game of accusations and frustration.

Obviously realising why Teddy had gone quiet, Danny reached out, touched his wrist- a tiny comfort which neither man would once have thought anything of, but for some strange reason felt... _unnatural_ , uncomfortable in the present situation. "It gets easier," Danny assured him. "It's harder on the kids, I think."

Teddy thought of Daphne, who still didn't understand why her parents had called it quits. Of Maddie, who felt like she had to pick a side.

"You have any?" Teddy asked, not sure why he felt disappointed when Danny nodded. Danny had always been great with kids, and he knew he should be happy for his friend. Still, a selfish part of him couldn't help but wonder if maybe an empty life would mean he'd be more likely to stay in Nashville- even if it was something Teddy wasn't quite sure he wanted.

"I adopted Sofie just after we got married- Carlos signed over his rights," Danny explained. He lifted up his iPhone; within seconds he had a photo on screen of a smiling teenage girl Teddy recognised only by the eyes she shared with Elena Delgado, holding a diploma in a graduation cap.

Teddy felt his throat swell shut. He wasn't an idiot and he wasn't oblivious; he knew that while he'd been in Nashville, creating a new life for himself, time at home had not stopped. Still, seeing the years he'd missed represented in this girl-no,  _woman_ , now- who had been in elementary school with pigtails and a missing front tooth the last time he had laid eyes on her, made it all the more real.

He finally realised then: life did not have a pause button. In fourteen years, your best friend could be married and divorced; the person you had memorised might have changed the way he takes his coffee and taken up an annoying habit; a man who had once swore to wait forever for you may well have moved on with his life, one you could not slot into as seamlessly as you imagined. A little girl who used to beg for piggybacks and believed in Santa Claus could have grown into a beautiful young woman with a bright future ahead of her- birthdays and ballet recitals and softball games would continue, uninterrupted. In fourteen years, your father could fall ill and finally want to see you; a constant figure you thought would live forever could be dying by degrees.

In other words, Teddy finally saw what Danny and everybody else he'd left behind must have been plagued with for years: when you walked out on your own life, unintentionally or not, you also walked out on the people in it.

Before Danny could inadvertently make him feel any worse, the name 'Luisa' flashed up on the screen beneath the words 'Incoming call.'

Teddy's stomach tied itself in knots, his heart dropped.

Danny said he was no longer married, not that he wasn't seeing anybody. The look on the other man's face when he saw the caller ID was all the confirmation Teddy needed. Danny glanced up at him, regretfully. "I have to take this," he said, and without waiting for Teddy to assure him it was alright, Danny tapped accept and held his cell to his ear.

"Hey, it's me," he greeted. Teddy pretended to be engrossed in stirring his coffee, but really he just couldn't stand to look at Danny, afraid his face had lit up by the sound of this stranger's voice.

He only had himself to blame for not knowing Luisa. There had been a time when he would have known practically every detail of Danny's new relationship- their friendship had been  _that_ intimate. Maybe he would even have gone to dinner with this woman, been introduced to her at Danny's apartment. Maybe he would approve of her if he'd seen for himself that she deserved Danny.

"What? Is everything okay?" The concern in Danny's tone still was not enough to force Teddy to meet his eyes. "Are you sure? Alright. Yeah, look I'll hop on the next flight, okay? Listen, I'll call you when I get to the airport."

He hung up and shook his head, blinking like maybe he was past the point of confusion. "Uh, I'm really sorry but I-"

Teddy raised his hand to silence Danny. He'd had fourteen years to prepare for a goodbye, and now that it was here he wished more than anything it wasn't.

Danny pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket, pulled Teddy's hand across the table and scrawled down an address that was nothing familiar to him. His heart lifted a little.

"Your place?" This was good, he told himself. Danny wanted him to visit.

_It was better than nothing._

Upon reading the words a second time, Teddy realised it was located in a gated community far out of Danny's price-range, somewhere in the Hamptons. Disappointment weighed heavy in his heart, he felt his palms begin to sweat with the realisation that Danny had given up on them, but not on his reasons for coming to Nashville.

"Your parent's address. Please, Mar-uh, Teddy. If you don't...you'll regret it."

Teddy pulled his hand away. "I don't need a lecture from you."

Danny didn't seem to have heard him and if he did, well, he continued regardless. "I know things between you and Victor haven't always been great…"

Barked out a laugh of sarcasm because that was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. And since when had Danny been on first-name terms with his father?

"You don't know the first thing about us." Much more bitterness than Teddy intended but he couldn't help it- who did Danny think he was, showing up in his life uninvited and telling him what he should and shouldn't do with regards to his own father?

"It's not even about your dad. If you can't come home for him, do it for your mom."

"My mother?" Teddy knew he shouldn't ask, shouldn't allow himself to be pulled in...but he couldn't help it. His relationship with his mother was perhaps only marginally better than his relationship with his father, but that didn't mean he didn't love her; that didn't mean he didn't feel an overwhelming rush of guilt when he thought of her, of how he left without saying goodbye.

Danny looked down, shook his head, and then looked back up with eyes filled with sympathy. "Your father doesn't want to die and leave her wondering where you are."

She didn't  _know_? Teddy had assumed his father had told her when he'd returned to New York after leaving his son on the doorstep of somebody he hardly knew, like an unwanted package he wished to return.

"Your father has been trying to get in contact with you for over a year," Danny said slowly, like he was anticipating a greater reaction than just the quick shrug which greeted his statement.

It was true. But Teddy had caller ID, and seeing an unrecognisable number with a DC or NY area code was enough for him to reject the call, block the number, without ever needing to answer. On the morning of his substitute father's funeral, Teddy had received a letter with a Washington address on it, perhaps the one that was now written on his hand- he couldn't remember. He didn't bother to open it- just tore it in half and stuffed it in the back of his bottom drawer, the sender stuffed firmly to the back of his mind.

"I would hardly call a handful of phone calls and one lousy letter ' _trying',_ Danny, _"_ Teddy said with a snort.

Danny's eyes seemed to darken. "It's a handful of phone calls and a letter more than the effort  _you_ were too busy to make."

Teddy sat back, wounded. He glanced at Danny's iPhone. "Don't you have a life to get back to?"

Danny blinked at him, then began to laugh, but Teddy sensed he was far from off the hook. Danny nodded towards the writing on the his hand. "Come home. Just for one day," he said. He looked away regretfully, like maybe he had more connection to this scenario than Teddy had imagined. "They need to see you, buddy. If it's the only thing you ever do for them again, do this."

"I seem to remember you weren't always this forgiving yourself when it came to family," Teddy said, although he immediately wished he hadn't. They'd both known what he meant by those words- Rafi.

Danny met his eyes again, hardened and resolved. "My brother was stabbed one month before being released from jail three years ago." He looked down at his phone, at a screensaver Teddy did not deserve to see. "Nobody should have to die without peace, Martin."

Before Teddy could apologise for Danny's loss that he should never have been cruel enough to bring up, or correct the name Danny insisted on calling him, the other man had stood up, pocketed his phone and walked out on him for the second time in two days.

Try as he might, Teddy couldn't seem to rekindle the same relief he had felt the previous time. Instead, he felt the absence of Danny immediately. Should he go after him?

But then his cell bleeped, an incoming call from Tandy, probably telling him Rayna was tired and he should come get the girls. With a final glance out the window to see Danny climb into his rental car, Teddy accepted the call.


	6. Fathers and Sons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am horribly slow and I apologise! Thankfully school is beginning to settle down so I'll have Friday as my uploading day (I will try for every Friday but it may sometimes be every other Friday, I have another multi-chapter fic I'm working on!) to make up for the delay, this is the longest chapter so far I think! 
> 
> Thank you for your patience, I promise I will try to be quicker in future! Thank you for reviewing and reading, I so so enjoy writing this fic when I have the time and energy to do so!

Danny Taylor had always loathed airports. It stemmed from a fear of flying, he knew that much, and as juvenile as it was, he always did his absolute best to avoid being within 100 feet of an airplane.

Which was why he had braved the hellish and ridiculous thirteen hour drive to Nashville two days ago.  _And_  why he had planned to drive back tomorrow night, Martin Fitzgerald in tow.

In hindsight, it was pretty obvious he had been a little  _too_ idealistic.

He knew Martin would show up eventually. His friend had changed dramatically, there was no question- but he was not heartless: seeing the way he looked at those little girls had made Danny see that. He  _would_ be here.

Depending on him to show up before it was too late was another thing entirely, though.

The flight took two hours- although of course it felt much longer to Danny- and when he finally arrived at LaGuardia it was late afternoon, and, in sickening contrast to Nashville Tennessee, it was raining heavily.

When he eventually located his car in the airport parking lot, Danny climbed inside and started the engine, turning the heating up as high as it would go in a feeble attempt to re-claim the warmth he had felt not four hours previously.

He drove to Lusia's office as quickly as he could- New York traffic made it practically impossible to  _speed,_ per say, but he did what the pathetic road-code allowed.

When he finally arrived at the building where she worked, he parked his car and made a dash for the lobby. He attempted to shake himself dry whilst waiting on the elevator, but instead he found himself watching warmly from afar as a little Asian girl held the hand of her two African-American parents. A man smiling triumphantly with a file tucked securely under his arm waved them off as they too made a run for their car, braving the weather- and the world- as a family for perhaps the first time.

The ding of the elevator tore Danny's attention back to his own situation. He got in, along with the successful social worker who was still smiling, and pressed a button to take him to the fourth floor.

When the elevator stopped at Luisa's floor, Danny made his way down the halls that he had spent more time pacing than he had ever imagined he would. He stopped walking only when he saw Luisa closing the door of a 'family room' behind her.

"Danny," she said, and it took all of his strength to stop in his tracks and  _not_ bull on into the room. But he still had no idea what had happened: he needed to be prepared. "I'm really sorry to have had to call you. I know you were out of town for a few days."

Danny swallowed, unable to respond to her apology when he realized she was not her usual optimistic self- this was obviously more serious than he'd thought. "Where is he?" Surprised himself slightly by how pleading he sounded-how emotionally wiped out by the reunion with Martin that had not been what he'd envisioned it would be.

Luisa put her hand on his arm, an attempt to urge him to regain his composure, composure he barely realized he had lost. "Danny, he's alright. But I do want to talk to you before you see him."

Danny blinked at her. "What happened?" He followed her down the hall a little further, into her cluttered office. When they went inside, she flopped down at her desk and buried her face in her hands.

"I was just trying to do what I thought was right," she murmured. He knew what she was doing: blaming herself, just like she always did. Luisa cared too much, something Danny had discovered years ago. As a result, every time something went wrong, she beat herself up for it. It was rarely ever down to her, of course, but Danny assumed that was simply a testament to how dedicated she was to her job, to the kids she worked with.

"Can you fill me in here?" Danny demanded, trying not to sound any harsher than necessary. "You said on the phone Caleb wouldn't talk to you."

She looked up at Danny and for the first time, he noticed the dark rings around her eyes. When was the last time she had slept through the night? "He won't," she said, and Danny heard her voice begin to waver and hitch with the effort of not crying. "He won't tell me what happened."

"Well I mean he called you, he must have told you  _something_ …"

"Actually, it was Lacey who called me." Luisa took her glasses off, set them gently on her desk and began to massage her eyes. "He stormed out, she called me to go find him."

Ever since Caleb was a little kid, leaving was his way of dealing with things. In eight months, and at four years old, he had ran away four times from the care home he had be placed in prior to living with Danny. Of course, Danny fostering him had not been a magic spell; overnight, Caleb had not suddenly changed his ways and no longer saw running as his only way of escape- there had been countless times over the last ten years Danny had found himself searching for Caleb after an argument. Still, not once had he ever needed to call Luisa to help him find his foster son- it was something he had always been fiercely determined to do alone, something that would ultimately bring them closer together, something that would help the young boy feel a little more secure and loved.

Clearly Caleb's mother did not see it like this.

"Where was he?"

"Your apartment," Luisa sighed. "He'd ran all the way there."

It was at least six miles between Lacey's flat and Danny's apartment, but he knew Caleb hadn't realized the distance when he'd been hyped up, especially if he was agitated and upset.

"And then what? He wouldn't tell you what happened?"

Luisa nodded grimly. "Yes. He just... _ignored_  me. He's angry. He thinks it's my fault Lacey let him down again."

Something inside Danny seemed to twinge, a stab at his heart he couldn't see but could feel regardless, a unique pain that came only from loving a child so much more than you had loved before. "Let him down?"

"She says she doesn't think it's a good idea if he continues to spend weekends with her."

"It's only been three weeks!" He was losing it, but he couldn't help himself. Caleb's mother had been much more interested in her long succession of boyfriends than she ever had been in her son- a fact which was beyond Danny's ability to comprehend, considering how much  _he_ loved Caleb. As a result, she had been drifting around Caleb's life for a long time, spending more time out than in. It was her loss- it always had been- but Danny knew that would do little to ease the sting her rejection had yet again caused. "She hasn't even fucking  _tried_!"

"She was high when I got there," Luisa murmured. "I couldn't even look at her."

 _Then it's no wonder Caleb couldn't,_ Danny thought. Swallowing hard, he spoke: "I need to see him."

Luisa muttered something and then went back to burying her face in her hands, cursing herself and her stupid intentions. Danny knew Caleb had been left in one of the rooms down the hall, and he had enough experience with this floor to be able to find him without Luisa's help.

After some minutes that passed in a frantic haze, he finally did- by the coke machine, of course, because despite the fact Caleb had felt more rejection in his thirteen years than most had in a lifetime, he was still an average teenager. A thousand things he wanted to say to Caleb, but only one question surfaced: "Why didn't you call me?"

And that was not the right thing to say, but if Danny had proven one thing to himself over the last few days, it was that he was absolutely awful at conjuring the correct words in moments when he needed to the most.

Thankfully, Caleb was far less touchy than Martin Fitzgerald and with only half of the chip Danny's former best friend was shouldering. Aside from that, in this case, it appeared Caleb understood why Danny felt betrayed at having to hear the news from Luisa. The boy ducked his head.

"You never get a break," he muttered, cheeks reddening with the adolescent embarrassment of admitting you still cared, despite the crappy hand life continued to deal you. "I didn't want you to have to come home early just 'cause of me. I thought if I went home I could let myself in and you wouldn't need to know about... _everything_  until you got home."

Danny felt himself sigh. As the parent, he was supposed to lecture Caleb, list the reasons why running away was dangerous and cowardly. But how could he, when the kid had had a worse two days than even he had?

Putting a hand on each of Caleb's shoulders, Danny tried to ignore the slight flinch on Caleb's part. "Hey, I don't care  _where_ I am at what  _time_ , you need me-  _ever_ \- you call me, no questions asked. Understood?"

Caleb muttered something that might have been a yes, so Danny sighed again and stopped himself short of just wrapping his broken son in his arms. "Caleb," Danny said softly, "let's go home."

* * *

 

Danny liked to pride himself as the sort of parent who did not need to buy their kids love. However, he was still the parent of an angsty teenage boy, and that meant that sometimes, just sometimes, Caleb's favorite fast food and a host of rented action movies were necessary, a natural part of their routine when things in his son's life did not go to plan.

Caleb was not the kind of kid- and what teenage boy  _was_? - who would come to Danny while he was cooking dinner and confide in him about his feelings. He was quiet, reserved, more likely to hold himself up in his room for hours at a time, silent and doing God-knows what online, like every other teen in the country who had ever been hurt.

It was much safer and healthier, in Danny's opinion, for them to spend time together on their couch, watching movies that awed Caleb's mind and eating junk food.

Three hours, two bowls of popcorn and a million special effects later, Caleb reached for the remote control and paused the DVD, mid-explosion.

"You okay?" Danny asked, knowing full well this was what he had been waiting for. He knew Caleb better than he knew anyone, and cracking his mind was a task he had an incredible amount of experience with.

"He was there," Caleb said, looking up at Danny. It was dark in the room, but Danny could tell by the hitch in Caleb's voice that the boy was close to tears. "She promised me she was finished with him; that she didn't want another guy who'd treat her like that...but he was there."

Ten years ago, Danny- struggling his way through a divorce he hadn't seen coming whilst still trying (and failing) desperately to convince his superiors that Martin was out there, somewhere, desperate to be found- had worked a missing person case that involved the buying and selling of women and children for purposes of human trafficking. A fifteen year old girl had been manipulated and used, sold to some sick old pervert abroad, but upon finding her, she had asked only if the little boy who had traveled with her was alive. Further investigation into the man in custody, responsible for the 'business transaction' revealed his girlfriend had a young son she had-  _coincidentally_?- failed to mention was also missing. By the time Danny and Jack found him, locked in a cage in an underground layer with four other older children and a pregnant woman, Caleb had gone days without proper water or food. At three and a half years old, the only word he had learned to say was, " _Stop_."

Lacey, his mother, had cried when they'd explained her boyfriend had planned to sell her son. She somehow slipped away with only a minor felony of neglect, promised the judge she would change, and then proceeded to sign her legal rights for Caleb over to the state. Thirteen months later, Danny had brought a healthier, happier Caleb home to live with him; painted his spare bedroom with animal stencils, bought so many toys the child struggled to decide which to play with at any given time. He showered the little boy with love and hugs and all the other things absent in his life until then. In return, Caleb lodged himself firmly in Danny's heart, the place where the hurt Martin had left behind once lived, making it impossible for Danny to dwell on what he had lost.

It was five years before Lacey had requested contact with Caleb again, and although Danny could tell just by looking at her- much too skinny, dark bruises on her arms, wild eyes that surrendered and cried at the drop of a hat- that she had not changed, he remembered how he had felt as a kid when social services had stopped him seeing Rafi. So he gave into Caleb's pleas and allowed her visitation rights, living with the ever-present pain of knowing that his son would undoubtedly be hurt by this woman and that there was nothing he could do about it. His reflex was to pull Caleb away from her each time he saw them together; cancel the weekend time she did not deserve; pull Caleb into his arms and protect him from her and whatever toxic man she was welcoming into their life this month.

But he couldn't. Because he had been in Caleb's position, which meant he knew exactly what he needed. The only way Caleb could see his mother for what she really was, the only way he could do so without resenting Danny, would be if Danny stood back and let him figure it out for himself.

He knew he had done the right thing, but that didn't necessarily make it any easier to handle.

"You don't have to see her anymore," Danny said, aware it was not technically Caleb's decision now Lacey had told Luisa she was finished with 'trying.' "She can't hurt you if you don't let her."

But was that really the truth? Or was that just what Danny hoped? Because absence did not ease the hurt of being left behind, and he knew that better than Caleb did.

Caleb sniffed. "I don't need her anyway. I've got you."

"Damn straight," Danny smiled, punching Caleb's shoulder lightly. "I promise you, some day she's going to wake up and realize that she's screwed up...and she'll have to live with that. But you've done everything you could to make things work, and I couldn't be more proud of you."

There was silence then, Caleb's frown changing to a small smile and Danny attempting to pull the boy into a hug without being met with teenage disdain.

"You still haven't told me what Nashville was like," Caleb said, after pulling away, shifting on the couch.

Laughing, Danny took a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth. "Don't ask," he mumbled around the popcorn.

"Did you find the guy you're looking for?"

Wasn't  _that_ the million dollar question? Danny just shrugged. "There have been some...developments."

Caleb turned to him, right eyebrow raised in question. "Are you going to tell me?"

Danny had been on three dates since Elena- two women, one man- casual set-ups by Samantha for the most part. A night out, a meal after work, but nothing more. Not one had ever been important enough, had ever touched Danny's heart enough, to be anything more than a quick kiss in the moonlight. They had certainly never earned enough of his trust to be introduced to Caleb- although he was quite aware his father dated occasionally. Danny  _wanted_ to tell him about Martin, but right now, there was nothing to tell. He wasn't even entirely sure he would ever see Martin again, although he was trying to convince himself there was no chance he wouldn't. 

"I'll get back to you on that," Danny said. Then, to ease the blow of secrets not shared, he handed Caleb the bowl of popcorn.

Caleb shrugged, "Whatever," and un-paused the DVD, as Danny tried to rid images of the stranger, Teddy Conrad, from his mind.

* * *

 

After leaving Caleb at the bus stop on Monday morning, Danny headed out to the private hospital in The Hamptons, knowing full well he'd be late for work and Jack would not even consider reprimanding him for it.

Victor's hospital room was empty when he arrived, but he hadn't expected any different. Martha, Martin's mother, was being looked after by maids and extended family members in the Fitzgerald home- they all knew she was not fit to see her husband's health deteriorate any further.

There had been no change since Danny had left for Nashville, the Doctor's assured him, but then cancer was known to work slowly. Victor seemed paler nonetheless, and he was obviously in pain despite the tubes and wires entering his body supposed to bring numbness from medication. 

"How are you feeling?" Danny asked gently, touching the older man's hand in a greeting.

Victor's eyelids, too heavy for his weak muscles, bobbed open. "I've seen better days." He licked his lips, and Danny knew he was mustering the strength to ask about Martin.

"He's doing fine," Danny said, not waiting for the question, knowing Victor could not afford to waste energy. He sat down on the soft chair beside the bed.

"Will he see his mother?" Victor's voice was so feeble, so frail and fragile. He was breaking apart, more and more, every time Danny saw him, and in turn, it was breaking Danny apart.

Tears pricked in Danny's eyes. He had never witnessed somebody die of such a torturous disease before. "He'll come," Danny managed to say, voice barely more than a whisper yet the room so quiet and empty it echoed. "I know he will."

Victor's lips curled in what once would have been a tiny smile. "Thank you, Danny." He lifted up his arm, eyes closed again, touched his hand to Danny's hair. "You're a good boy."

Danny bit his lip so he wouldn't sob. Shaking, he took Victor's hand in his own. "What can I do?" He asked, wiping his eyes hastily with his other sleeve. "Tell me what you need and I'll do it." The effort of simply breathing, of holding on for the family he loved, was agonizing to the dying man. He winced between breaths, before Danny pulled the oxygen mask gently up over his mouth. He had fallen back asleep before he could even give Danny an order to fulfill.

So Danny busied himself pretending he had been told what Victor wanted from him. He pulled the sheet further up his chest, like he used to tuck Caleb into bed when he was little; he closed the window, aware a simple cold could take days from them Victor did not have left; he picked up the fine tooth comb Martha had left behind and gently eased it through the thin, brittle grey hair on Victor's head that had just begun to grow back after the last bout of Chemotherapy.

He had been visiting Victor regularly in hospital for over a year now, had become a semi-permanent fixture in this very room for months. He had kept Victor company through treatment, had filled him in on work and life outside of the Oncology ward; he had reassured Victor countless times that if he died before Martin could get here, he would take care of Martha himself; he had witnessed their marriage fall apart, watched as Victor grew too exhausted to spare patience for Martha's constant confusion; had dried the tears and tried his best to pick up the pieces when she had been diagnosed with her own illness, one which meant on more than one occasion she had not been able to recognize Victor as her husband. He had been there for the worst nights, when Victor was so weak he was unable to shave himself, when the proudest man Danny had ever known was replaced with a vulnerable and dependent patient who needed soup spoon-fed to him by Danny. 

Danny had learned, over these horrible months, what Victor needed and when. But now, with weeks, maybe only  _days_  left to live, Danny knew there was just one thing he really needed-but it was something he couldn't give him: the type of forgiveness,  _closure_ , only a prodigal son could give his regretful father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm undecided right now, so if you have a preference about whose POV the next chapter should be from, please don't hesitate to let me know!!


	7. Damaged by Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Technically it's still Friday where I am so I did keep my promise! (Probably in your best interests to check Staurday if this has updated rather than Friday's if I'm always going to be this late!) Martin POV, it's italicized because it's basically an entire flashback but more...retrospective? Idk, I'm keeping to italics for chapters like this when there is just background etc. so yes, enjoy and let me know what you think!

_Henry Conrad was fairly popular in the state of Nashville, it seemed. He had won elections previously, but since his wife left him for another man four years ago, he had fallen deep into the bottle. Every other month, he would claw his way out, but then a song that reminded him of her would come on the radio, or he'd see somebody at the store who had eyes the same crystal blue as hers, and- almost as quickly as she'd broken his heart- he'd fall right back into it again._

_Still, that did not mean that walking the streets with him equaled anything less than a social parade. People stopped to congratulate Henry for God-knows what political venture and when he introduced Martin as his son, Teddy, Martin flinched, feeling the sting of a slap in place of a welcome._

_In those first few weeks, Martin was caught between anger at his father for leaving him there and disappointment Danny had not arrived to whisk him back home again. His father saw Nashville as a second chance, in Martin's eyes it was a cry for help...one which was being steadily ignored by those who had once claimed to love him._

_He dreamt of the kidnapping, the ordeal, almost every night, but, unlike the dreams that had plagued him in his own bedroom, it was Danny who was being hurt- not him. Was is some weird sign? Did it mean Danny was really in danger back in New York? Was it Martin's mind telling him to call Danny?_

_But then, almost in a blur, the weeks turned to months- a haze of adjustment and isolation; before long it was Christmas, and Henry was encouraging him to attend a party his new office was throwing._

_The job in business was nothing incredibly riveting or challenging, but it was a calm change of pace from finding missing people. In his new job, the worst that could come from him messing up was a contract needing re-printed. Nobody ever died if he made the wrong call; his team didn't suffer because he lost momentary focus; the closest he'd been to being held against his will was when the elevator had gotten stuck on the second floor for fifteen minutes._

_Still, it was a job, and it was a distraction, and right now that was the best he could hope for._

_He hadn't wanted to attend the party- he barely knew his co-workers, was steadily doing his best to stay out of everybody's way...but Henry was adamant._

_"It'll be good for you," he promised. "Take your mind off things."_

_What things, he didn't say, but it was enough to diminish what little hope Martin had been building up as a result of this new life. Regardless of how hard he felt he was trying, he was still falling short of expectations; he was still struggling to fit into this life that did not belong to him._

_The first half of the party was a misery and a grace all at once- his colleagues barely took notice of him, chatting and giggling amongst themselves, leaving him to sit alone and his desk and dwell. Before he could stop himself, he was wondering about Danny Taylor. How was he spending this Christmas Eve? In Elena's arms? Tucking Sofie into bed; leaving cookies for Santa? Was he thriving in the beautiful family Martin had once been stupid enough to believe he might be able to have with him?_

_He thought about his parents too. Were they attending mass together, their usual Christmas Eve tradition? Did they field questions from other parishioners who noticed Martin's absence? Or were they sitting in their living room with their snobby friends, toasting to a future without him to shame their family name?_

_"Teddy!" Henry's voice was curt, with gentle and concerned undertones. Martin spun around in his chair, still somewhat unaccustomed to being called by this name that was not- and would never be, in his mind- his._

_Henry was engaged in conversation with a man of similar age who was laughing heartily. "Come over here!" Henry encouraged, and- not for the first time either- he wanted to crawl under his new desk and pretend he didn't exist at all._

_But Martin did as instructed, held out his hand to shake that of a man introduced as Lamar Jaymes, a congressman or something who Martin pretended to have heard of but had not. "Your father tells me you have a bright future in business ahead of you," Lamar said, and Martin's irrational mind felt a flicker of hope at that statement before he realised the father the man was referring to was Henry, the one who was only pretending to care as a favor to the one who didn't anymore._

_Didn't say anything, because there was no correct answer really. Instead, he just blushed as Lamar eyed him up and down, feeling like a calf being chosen for slaughter._

_With a smile, the man asked, "Have you met my youngest daughter?"_

_Three hours later, Martin was dancing on the office rooftop with Rayna in his arms. Her eyes were sharp blue, rather than the soft chocolate of Danny's. When she spoke, her voice was sweet and passionate, instead of the rough intensity with which Danny had said his name. She looked at him as though she was disappointed he wasn't somebody else, somebody better; and somehow that was alright, because he looked at her exactly the same way._

_The music from downstairs was playing, some repetitive country song Rayna hummed along to as though she herself had written it, but that he had never heard before. "I'm really glad I came tonight," she whispered in his ear, voice hitching with the strain of the lie they could both hear loud and clear, but he could not bring himself to return the artificial sentiments, and so he simply held her a little closer as they danced completely out of sync with the fading music._

_When the night was over, she kissed him on the cheek, promising she'd call. "Teddy," she said as she entered his number into her cell phone. "Right?"_

_And that was it, his perfect opportunity to correct her. The moment his life could have turned out so differently, had he allowed it, had he been brave enough. The moment that separated him: from the wreck he once was to the man he became._

_"Teddy," he confirmed, and when she called an hour later, asking if he wanted to go for a midnight coffee, a Christmas offering between two new friends, he accepted._

* * *

_Coming to terms with his new identity came with losing a number of things: as the days went by, and he filled his mind with thoughts of work, of Rayna and their plans, he forfeited details from his old life. The moment came when he was no longer able to recall, from memory, the digits of Danny's cell phone number; yet he knew what Rayna's favorite dish was, and just how to prepare it. He traded knowledge the FBI had instilled in him- elaborate gun safety and rules and what-not-to-do-in-a-shootout- for the correct way his boss liked contracts alphabetized, for the procedures involved when an investor made a complaint._

_In creating new memories, he lost his old ones._

_In some ways, it felt like a relief. He didn't have to balance two minds at once; he was Teddy Conrad, and that was all anybody here expected of him._

_And it wasn't all loss. He gained plenty too._

_He woke up with a woman for the first time in years. A woman who was beautiful by any account, a woman who made him laugh, a woman who needed saving as much as he did and whose past pursuits set him apart, on a pedestal almost._

_But Rayna was not the only relationship Teddy Conrad was building. Henry, the man who had taken him in, was treating him as though he really were his own son, just as he had from day one, even when he had been too angry to see it. Henry, who, unlike Victor Fitzgerald, would call to ask him how his day went just because he cared; who would offer him advice on dealing with colleagues, instead of threatening to have them fired, and when Teddy decided to leave the firm for a all-round better job at a more prestigious one, whose first concern was not of the way it would look to others, but if Teddy would be truly happy._

_He had never heard the words, 'You can do whatever you want to do,' before coming to Nashville, and they were the magic he needed to take control of his life- the freedom needed to compel him to action._

_He got his own apartment and worked his way up the corporate ladder, and when he married Rayna Jaymes in a simple service mid-July, Henry was his best man. It wasn't until Maddie was born that Teddy came to properly see Henry as a father._

_He stood, in the hospital nursery, rocking the tiny bundle wrapped in pink in his arms while Rayna slept down the hall, when Henry entered and smiled. "I'm proud of you," he said, words foreign to the receiving ears, and when Teddy started to cry, he allowed Henry to believe it was simply because he was so overcome with love for Maddie._

_Being a father had come naturally to him, something which shocked him to no end. He could remember seeing Danny spin Sofie around in his arms and thinking he would never be able to conjure that desire for a child, yet here he was, in Nashville, a beautiful wife and a beautiful baby girl he would die for; an infant his world revolved around, who made him love Rayna because she had given him this perfect family he did not deserve. On the day they discovered the paternity results, Teddy set aside any childish insecurities that had plagued him throughout the pregnancy: he vowed to his daughter that what they lacked in blood he would make up for with love._

_It was Henry's influence, he figured, the support of a father he would never have had if he'd been in New York. A role model, an example of what a parent really did and said and gave._

_Henry doted on his granddaughters and continued to support Teddy right up until he was diagnosed with liver disease, a result of the alcohol he had not touched since the day he had become a grandfather. It was Teddy's turn to be strong for him then, but by then he'd only just learned what that really meant and required. He did his absolute best by the man; the best doctors money could buy, surgery that was not covered by insurance, moved Henry into their home in an attempt to aid his recovery- so selfish when really, it was Teddy himself who was desperate for more time._

_It was during these horrible months of watching his surrogate father die that Teddy began to screw up at work. The Cumberland deal was simply one disaster after another, a string of mistakes on his part as he juggled a family, blinding grief, and a job he had gotten simply due to a fake resume provided by the FBI._

_On his deathbed, Henry had kissed Teddy's forehead and told him he loved him, that he was proud to call him his son. They had held hands as he had departed from this world, Teddy drowning in his own tears as the machine flat-lined, the kind nurse he had hired patting his shoulder and assuring him he would be alright._

_In Danny's mind, he was helping Teddy by showing up unannounced to offer news of Victor's impending death, but he was simply dredging up memories of the father Victor had never been, the son it was much too late for the man they called Martin to become, the damage grief had done on his life last time it had had a place there._

_Danny Taylor would never understand that- in Teddy's eyes at least-he'd already buried his father._


	8. The left behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, this was written yesterday...I'm just only getting around to uploading it now. I'll try and have two chapters up next weekend to make up for the week I skipped- life just got messy. Danny's POV because I wanted to kind of explore that a bit more before returning to Martin, but next chapter will definitely be Teddy. Thank you for your continued support and I hope you don't mind I sort of got de-railed by Danny's side-plot here! x

Danny was struggling to resist the urge to call.

It was surprising he even found the time to think about Martin, really, considering he barely managed to squeeze in lunch around a hectic work schedule, single parenting a teenager who was trying his damnest to piss off just about every professional in his middle school and daily trips to the all-too-quiet hospital room two hours out of town.

Still, whether it was during those moments when he caught himself staring into space at his desk or alone in the car after dropping Caleb at the bus stop, Danny managed to slot in thoughts of his ex-best friend.

Each morning when he awoke he checked the local airports flight times from Nashville to New York; wanting to be prepared should Martin be on one of them. Of course, the days past and he did not show up at the office-where he surely knew Danny still worked- his parents’ house, the address Danny had given him- and he knew because he called every night to check in with the relatives, who he knew only by name and association, to see how Martha was- or the private hospital where Victor was dying by degrees.

He had long since given up on convincing himself he only wanted Martin to return for Victor and Martha’s sake. It was a lie, and one which had been patchy at best, even to begin with. Not half as begrudgingly as he’d expected, he was able to admit he wanted to be near Martin again; he wanted to have it out with him, he wanted to be able to forgive and forget; Danny wanted to show him that he had never stopped looking, searching- that he had never given up.

And even now, when he’d had multiple chances and ten years and a glimpse into the life Martin was so capable of living without him, he was still holding on.

“Danny? _Hello_?” a petulant voice demanded, waving a hand in front of his face.

Danny blinked, the voice of his son drawing him from his tangled thoughts that were steadily revolving around the man who had taught him how to love, how to hurt.

He was standing at the cooker in his kitchen, the chicken he had been grilling- the first meal he had devoted time to make so far this week- was charcoaled black by this point, smoke was beginning to rise and Caleb was at his side, turning down knobs and dials and making room to breathe with a dishcloth.

“Fuck,” Danny muttered, stepping back for a split second before moving to action, taking the pan off the grill and covering his coughs with his arm.

Living in an apartment had its disadvantages- the highly over-sensitive smoke detector was one of them. That insistent beeping was ringing in his ears and a red light on the ceiling was flashing and it would probably be moments before water began to rain from the sprinklers above their heads.

He sighed, exasperated. Caleb stood in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. With an expression that read: this _it why you haven’t cooked all week_ , he quirked an eyebrow. “Chinese?” he challenged.

Willing his mind to un-see the piercing blue eyes that he should really have forgotten by now, Danny nodded. “It doesn’t look like we have a choice,” he said, except he knew that even when you thought you didn’t, you _always_ had a choice.

* * *

 

Sofie had been in Europe for the past three weeks, a trip with her girlfriends to celebrate surviving three years of college, a first special dive into adult freedom. When Danny picked her up from the airport on Sunday afternoon, she ran into his arms like she was twelve years old again, instead of twenty-two.

“Daddy,” she said, like she had not spoken to him the entire time she’d been away, when in fact they had exchanged texts every night and phone calls every other day. “I missed you.”

She waved goodbye to her friends and walked out of the airport with her arm linked through his own. “Where’s Caleb?” she asked when they got to the car.

“He’s at his friend’s house. He thinks your flight isn’t home until tomorrow- I thought it would be a welcome surprise for him later.” Danny placed Sofie’s suitcase in the boot of the car, shifting it onto its side to make room for her oversized hand luggage. “How the hell did you get through security with that? Isn’t there a weight restriction?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she chided. “What’s wrong with Caleb?”

Danny slammed the boot shut and climbed into the driving seat, not wishing to have this conversation in the middle of the airport car park. “Things have been tough while you were gone.”

“Lacey?” Sofie asked, moving into the passenger seat and clipping both of their seat belts in place while he started the engine.

Danny sighed. “Naturally.”

“He’ll be alright. He has you.” She stared out the window, hard, like she was concentrating on something he could not see. “You are twice the parent that woman could ever be.”

“Is everything okay with you?” Danny prompted, noticing she folded her hands together in her lap after switching her phone off completely.

Almost like she had been waiting for him to ask, Sofie deflated. “It’s Mama.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Danny asked, part-frantic, part-rational. It wasn’t that he still loved Elena- no way, no how- but he did still care about her as the mother of his daughter and the thought of issues with her adding to his list of ‘things to deal with’ filled him with dread. There already wasn’t quite enough of him to go around.

“Nothing,” Sofie said quickly. “I mean, nothing’s _wrong_ with her. It’s...well, Juan’s company offered him a job en España. He wants to take it and Mama...wants to go with him and…”

She stopped short, like the next part was important to Danny, more so than his estranged ex moving continents with her new husband. “...And they want me to go as well.”

If he hadn’t been driving, Danny was not sure just how he would have handled that final sentence. “Spain?”

Sofie had spent three days in Spain when traveling with her friends.

“Mama and Juan flew over to show me their new house while I was there,” she explained, but that did not make Danny feel any better.

“How long has this been planned exactly?”

He was being petty, childish. For God’s sake, Sofie was a grown woman now, not a child. If she wanted to go to Spain with her mother then she could, and he was in no position to stop her.

Not that he ever had been, of course- a mother would forever outrank a father in America’s custody courts; Elena had biology, common blood, a birth certificate that linked her to their daughter, none of which Danny had. Elena could have taken her, anywhere, at any time, in the last thirteen years- except she didn’t.

Of course this had been his initial fear when they were divorcing, especially in his sleep-deprived, delusioned yet optimistic Martin-would-never-leave-me-behind-either state of mind.

“I will never take her from you,” Elena had said, a promise that at the time meant very little, considering the last one she had made and been unable to keep-“I will always love you.”

Logically, he knew Elena was not doing this to hurt him: he had planned to keep a good relationship with his ex for the sake of their daughter, but that was difficult when they realised they had never really had much of a relationship in the first place.

They had spoken on the phone perhaps a handful of times a year; taken it in turns to attend PTA meetings to avoid the awkward silence that would eat them both alive if they were both to go. Elena returned to White Collar, Danny had never had to work with her, a fact he was grateful for. In the last few years, as Sofie moved into campus accommodation, their only contact had dwindled to an email or two to warn the other of what birthday or Christmas gift they intended to buy her, so they wouldn’t clash.

At the present moment, Danny could not even remember the last time he had heard Elena’s voice.

Still, just because their relationship was non-existent did not mean that teasing Sofie away had been intentional. He had obviously not factored into the decision at all, or else he would have heard from Elena and Juan.

Knowing Elena had not set out to tear his world apart did not help in the grand scheme of Danny’s heart, though. Instead, the thought of losing Sofie when he had only just gotten her back after almost a month apart made tears swim in his eyes. He had to pull over, certain he could not continue to have this conversation, drive at the same time and _not_ risk their lives.

“She’s been talking about it for months. I-I told her I would tell you, but I-I... _couldn’t_ ,” Sofie blurted out, reaching for his hand, seeming surprised when he didn’t pull away. “I didn’t know how to.”

He thought his children knew they could tell him anything, but he was wrong. Caleb, who had called Luisa instead of Danny because he didn’t want to be a bother; now Sofie, who had been keeping this secret for months afraid of how he might react.

Maybe it wasn’t just his children. What about Martin, who had ran from everything and everyone, who was still running, all because talking it out with Danny hadn’t seemed like an option? Elena, who found it easier to go along with a wedding she did not want, a marriage she knew would never last, than to tell him the truth.

“You should have told me. I’m not a monster, Sofie. I wouldn’t have freaked out.”

Sofie raised an eyebrow. “Like you are now, you mean?”

He bit his lip. “I’m not freaking out. It’s just- Jesus, this is a shock.”

Sofie shook her head and looked out the windscreen. “I don’t know what to do.”

Except she did, of course, and Danny knew it. Spain was exotic, different, exciting. It held potential and promises. She had just finished college with a degree to be proud of; she had no ties here other than him and Caleb.

She would make new friends, get a job she loved, have the experience of a lifetime. Weren’t these all of the things he wanted for his daughter?

Naturally, they were. He just wanted them in the same country, where she was a forty-minute drive away, where she still spent weekends in his apartment playing video games with her brother, where he could bear witness to her new life evolving.

“We can Skype all the time,” someone said, and it took Danny by surprise that it was _him._ “You’ll see more of me there than you do here.” He let out a laugh, awkward and forced and too heavy.

Sofie shifted in her seat. “Daddy-”

He lifted his hand up, silencing her. “I want you to be happy,” he said, faking his best smile, the same one he had used when he was in Martin’s fancy new kitchen, watching the man he loved defend his new ‘home’ with the least-welcoming agitation.

He had managed to blink away most of the tears by now, he kissed her on the top of the head and squeezed her hand. He started the engine again, was just about to pull back onto the road when his cell phone buzzed from its place in his coat pocket.

He dug it out, heart dropping like a pebble in water when he read the caller ID: Southampton Hospital.

“Hello?” He sounded panicked, could tell by the way Sofie looked at him as he answered.

“Mr Taylor?” the voice on the other end of the phone was familiar, the kind nurse who worked the evening shift and always brought magazines by for Danny to flick through while Victor slept. Her name was Marina. “Um, I think you need to come down here, if at all possible.”

He wasn’t sure what the protocol was in situations like this- was it simply that she couldn’t break news of Victor’s death over the phone?

“Is it...is he...?” Danny’s mind was racing with a thousand thoughts: _not now, not yet, not on his own._

“Mr Taylor I really think it’s better if you come down here right away.”

He couldn’t bring himself to reply, so he ended the call and finally pulled off of the shoulder.

* * *

 

“Well?” Sofie pressed, unbuckling her seat belt, and then Danny’s, when he didn’t move. “Aren’t we going to go in?”

“They should have called me,” Danny murmured, too many things he needed to say--incoherent thoughts he couldn’t structure. “Why didn’t they _call_ me?”

Sofie looked down at the floor of the car. “This is Uncle Martin’s dad, right?”

Danny nodded, but he still couldn’t speak. He had not told her he had found Martin, or that he had gone to Nashville. He could lie to Caleb, but Sofie was much more intuitive.

“I can’t believe he’s been gone for so long,” she said quietly.

She had been aware of her father’s searching; how he did not rest the case even when the team did; how some nights he still woke up in a cold sweat, certain he had heard Martin call out his name and that it must be some sort of sign that he was still out there, still needing to be found (and by Danny, of course.)

Now, Danny found himself turning to her, desperate to hear the memories she had- the innocent ones he would once have treasured, those that had not been tainted by betrayal and regret. “What do you remember about him?”

She was seven when he disappeared, almost eight. Young enough to not understand why Uncle Martin wouldn’t come by on Sunday’s anymore to eat dinner with them, but old enough to remember that in the months prior to leaving he hadn’t been doing that so much anyway; old enough to notice the space his lack of presence had left in her life, in the life of her father.

Danny wondered if she too ever passed someone in the street, a man with bright blue eyes and dirt-brown hair of the same height and build as Martin and turned, hope burning her insides to ash, only to notice that the stranger in fact had a facial piercing, that his nose was too small, that his ears stuck out too much.

“Not a lot,” Sofie admitted, looking at him apologetically, like she wished she could understand why the tone of Martin’s laughter was ever-playing in his mind, why the lines on the inside of Martin’s palm was a design Danny could still trace to this day. “I remember that he made me laugh. I remember that he used to come to my ballet recitals. I remember that he used to sneak me ice cream after dinner when you and Mama said I couldn’t have any more.” The small smile brought to her face by reminiscence disappeared, changed to a frown of disappointment, of hurt too perhaps. “I remember that you used to look at him the way I wanted you to look at Mama.”

The hair on Danny’s arms stood up on ends, her soft words scraping at his heart like a scalpel, sending tremors through his body. He thought he had hidden his feelings so well- as it turned out, his then eight-year old daughter had figured them out. “How was that?”

“As though you were always waiting,” Sofie said, looking up at him sadly. “I guess you were.”

And where had it gotten him? He’d waited fourteen years, he’d _wasted_ fourteen years- running police checks on potential suspects and re-watching security footage and checking bank accounts for any sign of life. He’d cried his tears, had days when he convinced himself something awful must have happened to the man he loved so desperately, because surely nothing of his own will could ever convince Martin to leave him.

Until the day Victor had told him, months ago now, that he in fact knew exactly where Martin was (and had, all these years.) Danny hadn’t believed him- hadn’t _wanted_ to believe him- and right up until Martin Fitzgerald was telling him that he had changed, all but throwing Danny out of his new life, he still hadn’t. He was so sure Martin must be under some obligation, some force; he was so sure Martin still needed Danny to swoop in and save him.

“Dad? What do you think _happened_ to Uncle Martin?”

After wiping the bitter tears from his eyes before his daughter could see them, Danny opened the car door.

“He’s dead,” he said, and maybe, Danny thought, the man he had known and loved really _was;_ maybe this was far from the biggest lie Danny had told all day.

* * *

 

“Wait here,” he instructed Sofie, leaving her sitting in the waiting room in the palliative care section of the hospital. An elderly woman sat beside her, coughing hysterically like perhaps she was the next in line for a bed.

Strangely, Sofie did not argue with him making her stay behind. She nodded and gave his hand a quick squeeze before releasing him, before he was forced to go through the double doors leading to the private ward Victor had been on.

Before he could reach the room he fully expected to now be empty- and he was crying again just at the thought, except without Sofie by his side and therefore no reason to pretend this didn’t feel like torture- he spotted Victor’s oncologist.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Danny demanded, his voice echoing the silent corridor, a heartfelt howl. “I told you to call me!”

Dr Bethel looked frustrated too. “Danny, you need to calm down. I _did_ call you. But this isn’t what you think.”

He was listening now, because if this was not what he thought then that meant Victor was still alive, that it was not too late, that he had not let the man who had relied on him like a child these last few months down completely. “Is he...?” Danny’s throat was dry.

Betel nodded. “He’s alive.”

“What is it, then?” Slightly less frantic, but shock was now crippling his throat rather than sorrow. “An infection?”

“No,” Dr Betel said, shaking his head. He took two steps ahead to the window by Victor’s hospital room; the one Danny did not want to look into, for fear of what he would see. Yet, the oncologist waved Danny forward.

At first, he didn’t notice anything off. He took in the image of Victor, eyes shut, in his hospital bed- the same shade of white he had been last night when Danny visited; the lilies by his bed that Martha had sent three days ago when she’d be urged to remember who he was-one of her better days; the heart-monitor making the same faint rise and falls that it usually did- once a worry, now a relief. Danny almost looked back at the Doctor to question just what was supposed to shock him, but as he turned his head to do so he spotted it.

The man in a long brown coat, probably a designer brand Danny could not pronounce, standing by the end of the bed.

Were his hands shaking, or was Danny’s vision? He couldn’t tell, and this ghost had just been accepted as dead moments ago, yet here he was- the irony of Danny thinking he was coming here to lay to rest his relationship with both Fitzgeralds, but in actuality burying neither one.

Martin looked up and met Danny’s eye, like there was not hurt as deep and wide as the ocean between them.

“It’s not an infection,” Dr Betel pointed out, in case Danny had still had any doubt. “It’s his son.”


	9. The right thing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters as promised, although this was really one big one, it seemed much too long pasted in though so I split it. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

It had started innocently enough.

One minute he was dropping the girls off at Rayna's- she was now home and demanding her time with their daughters, something he accepted he had no control over yet was still slightly begrudging of, knowing she would never have given into a request he made quite so easily- and the next he was heading toward the airport, calling his secretary and telling her he would be out of town for a few days, asking her to rearrange his scheduled meetings.

It didn't necessarily make him feel good to put such a short time limit on Victor's life, but if the story Danny portrayed was anything to go by, it was certainly not an unreasonable one.

He got as far as the check-in desk, freshly printed plane ticket in hand, when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Stepping aside to allow the next passenger to take his place, he answered, forgetting to take a glance at the caller ID.

"I called your office," the familiar voice informed him. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out of town?"

It was Rayna. He stifled a sigh. "It wasn't planned. An... _emergency_  cropped up. What did you want at my office anyway?"

"Daphne left her hockey kit at your place," she explained. "She has practice tomorrow, remember?"

Of course he remembered, he was the one who usually left the office early to pick her up. Still, pointing this out to Rayna would be futile. "Maddie knows where I keep the spare key. It's probably in the dryer."

He'd put on a spin before he left, not thinking to check if the clothes the girls had given him to wash and dry were ones they would need for their mother's this week. His mind was preoccupied, on other things, but telling Rayna that did not seem feasible.

"Where are you going anyway?"

He was not obliged to tell her, of course- God knew she had a history herself for being less than honest with him. Regardless, he did want to maintain a relationship of some sort with her, and hanging up after telling her it was absolutely none of her business-which it  _wasn't_ \- was certainly not indicative of successful co-parenting.

"New York." Before she could ask- and she would ask, he heard it her sharp intake of breath when he said those two words- he answered, "My-my real father's dying."

He had told her, not so long ago now, the truth about his past. The night in question, he had been working up the courage to tell her about the Cumberland deal, but at the very last minute chickened out- switched instead to the tale of the life he'd ran away from. He included only the basics of course, leaving out the why's, the who's, the how's. By the time he had finished with the much-edited version of his story she was shaking her head, disbelieving, begging him to tell her that their life together was not the lie she thought it was.

No words could ease her pain, though, and that night, she left Teddy for the first time. She took the girls from school and brought them to Tandy's, where they stayed for three whole days before she finally relented and answered his calls.

"Are you a murderer?" She asked over a lunch he was surprised she agreed to have with him, and for the first time in years he had thought of the last person who had loved him; how Danny Taylor would know him well enough to know this possibility was ridiculous.

He explained he  _wasn't_ , that their family was in no danger, that he could return to his old life now those he was running from where safely imprisoned or dead- but that he chose not to because his old life was not a patch on the one he had created with her and their daughters.

Rayna believed him, or at least she pretended to, and that night she moved back home with Maddie and Daphne.

She didn't ask again and he didn't tell. Perhaps that was the beginning of the end, the precise point things began to deteriorate, the tremor before the earthquake. He couldn't be entirely sure-but he did know that things had not been the same between them since.

"Teddy-" Rayna's voice, softer than she had spoken to him in months, startled him from his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

How would she? He hadn't told her; they were far from casual chatting terms; he barely knew the details himself. Just as he was not obliged to tell her where he was going, she was not obliged to care.

But he found himself relieved she still did.

"I-I'm okay," Teddy said, in case she was wondering, despite the fact it was a lie of the most blatant type. "It's just a shock."

"I'll bet," Rayna replied. "Listen, take your time, okay? I can keep the girls an extra week if I need to-"

"-no!" Too quick, too determined, but he wasn't going to let his old life interfere with his new one any more than it already had, was not about to miss out on precious time with his girls for the sake of someone he had never really known. "I'll be back for Saturday."

Rayna began to talk again, assuring him it was no trouble, that the girls would understand- although how she thought she should explain it to them he had no idea.

"Look, I'll be back for them, okay?" He was cutting her off, but he had a flight to catch and this conversation was only adding to the anxiety building inside his chest.

A sigh; a resignation. "Whatever you think. But listen, don't say or do anything you'll regret-"

He'd gotten all of this from Danny already and would no doubt be subjected to it yet again when he later landed in New York, the last thing he wanted was a lecture in regrets from his ex-wife.

"-I gotta go," Teddy interrupted. "I'll see you Saturday," and before she could argue, he ended the call.

* * *

The airport had changed since the last time he had been there.

The floors from the terminal had once been discoloured carpet; now they were shiny white tiles that squeaked when walked on. He was sure the walls had been re-painted too, hardly surprising considering how much time had passed, but disorientating all the same.

There were escalators where Information desks used to be, an outside smoking area where a small bar had been located, 40 gates in terminal B when Teddy was sure there had never been more than 20 when he had been flying domestically to and from LaGuardia frequently.

This was all he could think, or all he was trying to focus on, before realising he had gotten on the plane with nothing but the clothes on his back, the phone and wallet in his pocket. No cell charger; no spare shirts, no razor or shaving foam. If he was here until Saturday, he was going to need to invest in some necessities.

Danny hadn't told him the name of the hospital, but when he finally received the keys to his hired car, he realised he knew exactly where he was going.

The closest hospital to the address Danny had given him was a two hour drive, but Teddy was glad of the distance- a final procrastination. He drove in autopilot, taking turns and stopping at lights almost automatically, as though it had been days since he'd been on these streets, rather than years.

He was careful not to look around, afraid of what, of who, he might see as he passed, focusing on the route ahead of him instead of the life around him or the challenges awaiting.

Finding a parking space was easy, getting out and making his way inside was another thing entirely. What if somebody saw him; recognised him? What if he ran into Jack, or Danny, or his mother? What if he was too late?

What if he  _wasn't_?

Teddy was always the kind of person who had a plan. He'd had to be, these last few years especially, but being back in this state seemed to diminish this particular character trait. It was almost as if he had reverted back to being clueless Martin Fitzgerald, just by spending a few hours stuck in New York traffic.

The thought crippled him with fear- being that person again was out of the question, for a million reasons that started with Danny's mysterious caller in the coffee shop and ended with the fact he had a family waiting for him at home.

With the resolution that this was a brief mercy visit from a fleeting stranger, Teddy got out of the car, still trying to work out exactly  _who_ the mercy was for.

* * *

"I'm sorry, are you a relative?" An innocent question from a trainee nurse, somebody who didn't want to let an unfamiliar man into a room with the dying. Still, it was enough to stall Teddy, to make his breath catch in his throat.

"I-I'm his nephew," the words out before Teddy could stop them, digging hands into pockets so she couldn't see them shake.

"I'm not sure I can-"

"Nurse Kai," a man's voice, sterner yet quiet, interrupted her. Dr Betel was a tall and lean aging man with a bald spot, his glasses sat on the end of his crooked nose, falling down his face so often in a minute he did not bother to push them back up. "Why don't you allow me to handle this?"

The young woman blushed and hurried off. Betel made eye contact with Teddy for a split second before they both looked away. "A nephew, you said?"

Teddy nodded, already thinking there was no way such a prestigious hospital would allow just anybody in to see their sickest patients and at least he tried because now Danny couldn't hate him forever.

The doctor was staring even though he was pretending he wasn't. It was as if he knew the truth, knew Teddy was lying, but that calling him out on it was not something he could consider.

"Victor is resting right now, but you are welcome to sit with him," he explained, shocking Teddy more than a little bit as he began to lead him down the corridor to a room with a window looking in.

Teddy couldn't bear to look- certain if he did he would change his mind and run. So he followed the doctor into the room and pretended he understood the medical jargon he was using in relation to the condition of the man in the bed.

Betel left them alone, and Teddy had to resist the desire to follow him out. Aside from the beeping and bleeping of machines, it was utterly silent. Teddy was holding his breath, and it seemed like the man in the bed wasn't so steady with his either.

Betel was right about one thing- the patient was asleep. This was a Godsend to Teddy, whose hands and knees were still shaking somewhat.

He was trying so very hard not to properly look, but eventually he gave in pretending and just stared, horrified this man was one he did not recognise.

His face was much too thin, bones sticking out in places where they hadn't before; the thick grey hair he had one had was replaced with thin tufts of white; there were wires and an oxygen mask and- as he let out the sickening breath he'd kept inside all this time- Teddy realised, an catheter.

Teddy's head began to spin. This was wrong, this was all wrong, so wrong- such a stupid mistake because this was not the same man who had left him on Henry Conrad's doorstep all those years ago, and logically he had always known nobody was indestructible but that did not account for this deterioration in any way.

Wanted to leave, wanted Danny to burst in and tell him this was all just a way to get him here and surprise! because really Victor was in the next room, doing absolutely stellar for his age.

He waited.

And he waited.

But Danny did not come and wake him from this nightmare.


	10. Questions and Confessions

He couldn't sit down on the bed, because it was too close to Victor. The chair was out of the question too, because what if he did something completely silly and touched the older man's hand-purely out of sympathy, of course?

Where was everybody? His mother, his aunts and uncles, his cousins. Didn't they take it in shifts to watch over the ailing? Was the room always this empty?

After a long time of standing as far away from the bed as he could, he noticed movement. It was faint, but present all the same- the light flicker of eyelids, the gentle twitch of a finger.

Victor let out a small groan and it surprised Teddy he did not even need to bite his tongue in order to keep up with the ominous silence.

He did not feel compelled to reassure the other man; he did not need to force his legs to stay in the current spot and avoid rushing to his bedside. As it turned out, his body and mind had no desire to make amends.

Unfortunately, his heart was still slightly conflicted.

He watched with no feeling as the older man struggled with the oxygen mask, felt numbness penetrate any pity that had plagued him moments ago.

"Martin," not a question, but far from an answer either. Barely above a whisper, so weak and frail Teddy had to wonder if it was part-pretend. "I'm so h-happy...you could...come."

Teddy folded his arms, mind bitterly throwing around petty insults like:  _cut the crap, you can't fool me,_ and  _your Oscar's outside, you call me all the way here to go get it for you?_

Cowardice and the fear his voice would not be steady prevented him from voicing any of them, but the fact he did not immediately begin to tend to Victor served as insult enough.

The older man frowned- or what may have been a frown had his lips not been so dry they were pasted together- but uncurled a pale fist, outstretched his palm, a welcome, an offering.

Teddy did not move, felt his own hands ball into fists, a resentment he had told himself he was man enough to put aside resurfacing.

"You left me," he said, before he could be pulled back into the manipulative cycle that was his relationship with his 'father.' "I needed help. I needed  _you_...but you just left me."

And Victor was not strong enough to argue, which was perhaps why Teddy felt so brave all of a sudden.

"Martin." Tears, freaking  _tears_ rolling down sunken cheeks, and Teddy couldn't do this, wouldn't do this. Not when he felt emotionally blackmailed and trapped and as though if he stayed here a minute longer he'd never be able to get back to where he wanted to be.

The door opened and Teddy had to take a step back. Danny ignored him completely, instead went straight to Victor. He stood at an angle, blocking Teddy's view, leaving him only to imagine Danny wiping Victor's tears with the tissues he had plucked from the box on the bedside table.

When Danny stepped away, his gaze finally fell on Teddy. "You decided to show up then?" His seething anger was seized by Victor's hand on his arm, and it was then that Teddy finally realised.

In this scenario,  _he_ was the stranger- not Danny.

He didn't even know what type of cancer was killing Victor, while Danny was obviously close enough to be called by Dr Bethel.

Danny's first thought upon entering the room was not to help Teddy escape this situation, but to comfort Victor.

He was being bitterly ridiculous and he knew it, but Teddy couldn't help but feel like he'd been slapped: intentional or not, they'd replaced him with each other.

In being the force pulling them together, he had pushed himself out of the equation entirely.

"I shouldn't have come here," he blurted, not leaving time for a reply before walking out of the room, closing the door firmly, leaving a dying man to his regret.

"Where the hell are you going?" A voice that made him shiver, echoing in the corridor, and Danny was grabbing his arm. Had he followed him out? "What did you say to him? You were in there, what, half an hour, and now you're done?"

"Why did you want me to come here?" Tried to shake him off, almost losing his balance in the process, needing to lean on the wall to steady himself.

"We've been through this already, I wanted you-"

"-you wanted me to do  _what_ , Danny? Whatever it is he needs  _I_ can't give it to him."

"You haven't even  _tried,"_ Danny snapped, inches from his face, stepping back only when footsteps grew closer.

" _I_  called Danny," Dr Bethel said, as if that should bring about a great feeling of understanding when in fact it only brought another fresh wave of anger and resentment.

First name basis?  _Really_?

What did Victor need him for exactly? It seemed like he had found a new son in Danny.

"I can't do this." He was away before they could process, pushing through double doors, passing waiting rooms and reception desks on his way.

He took the stairs at a hazardous pace, yet a part of him wanted to slow down, to see if Danny was chasing after him.

When he came to the ground floor, he pressed his back against another wall to catch his breath, to gather his thoughts.

Had he overreacted? He didn't know the full story...maybe he was not the reason Danny and Victor were suddenly so close. He tried to pretend it wasn't, but he knew exactly why it would hurt so much if he was- because then Danny had known for a long time where he had been, and had chosen not to find him.

The thought had barely surfaced when he caught a glimpse of something tacked to a notice board by the pharmaceutical desk.

It was a Missing Person's billboard, cases that probably tortured Danny, kept him awake at night, but which meant nothing but faces and descriptions to Teddy. All except one.

MISSING: MARTIN G FITZGERALD

MISSING SINCE 05/16/03

LAST SEEN: 321 Vipers Apartment Complex, Queens (his own home)

• Blue eyes

• Brown hair

• 5"9

• Approx 168 lbs (at time of disappearance)

IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION ON HIS WHEREABOUTS PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL POLICE STATION OR LEAVE US A TIP: (718) 525-5553

His own picture was in the middle, an over pixelated image of his face from a period in time when Martin Fitzgerald knew how to smile and  _mean_  it.

Teddy ripped it off of the notice board, crumpled it into his hand. He was not Martin; it was not him; he did  _not_  need to be found.

The poster was not faded, the paper still crisp. It hadn't been on this billboard since 03'...it had been put up long after.

He'd disappeared fourteen years ago, who was still searching? What kind of person would hold on so long? Who was missing him from their life  _that_  desperately? Surely not his father, who had known all along where he was, or his mother, who he was sure too rejoiced when he vanished.

But then who did that leave? Jack? Sam? Viv?

"Martin."

_Danny_.

"Did you do this?" Handed the ball of paper to a confused Danny, who took it and uncrumpled it tentatively.

His eyes scanned the now-damaged poster. "Oh," he muttered, staring at the picture for a beat longer than necessary, as though perhaps he was still hung up on the man in the photograph. "Yeah. Every year, I print a new batch, using a different picture. I-I thought maybe-"

"-did you ever get any? Tips, I mean."

Danny nodded. "I mean, yeah. Whack jobs who claimed to have you locked in their basements, hoping your family would pay up millions in cash. Old ladies who'd swear you were working as their plumber the week before, when really they'd just seen your picture taped to a tree and gotten confused. I checked all the leads out, obviously, but they were just bullshit."

I  _checked all of them out,_ he said, and Teddy realised that the number listed for tips was a cell and not an office number.

"You did this? By yourself? Every year?"

His heart was beating too fast for his brain to connect to the fact he was still mad at Danny.

Danny shrugged. "I had to be the one to find you." His tone was pained, resigned.

So much so, Teddy found himself thinking up ways to reassure him. "Well, technically you did."

Danny looked up, eyes wild with hurt. "I thought you'd been kidnapped, maybe even killed. Do you know what it's like, to spend all these years telling yourself you should be looking for a body, to  _grieve_ for your-your best friend, only for him to turn up nine hundred miles away doing absolutely swell for himself?" Danny looked back to the picture. "I know you think Victor left you, and I don't know, maybe he did- but  _you_ left me, and even though it's selfish, that's all I'll ever see it as."

And if that was supposed to make him hate himself then mission accomplished. But his failings with Danny did not make up for Victor's as a father. "I needed him," Teddy said.

"No, you needed  _me,"_ Danny corrected. " _We_  needed each other. Except we didn't know how to do anything but take back then. Victor just got caught in the crossfire."

Was that true? Had Teddy, back when he was somebody else, projected his anger with Danny onto the closest person, the person who was easy to blame because he'd made his own mistakes- his father?

"We need some air," Danny decided, and Teddy was too weak from thinking to argue. He followed him outside the main doors of the hospital, to a bench dedicated to a doctor who had made a medical breakthrough at this very hospital.

They sat down at opposite sides, inches of space between them that neither wished to acknowledge. Danny leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, and rubbed his hands down his face.

"I know it's too late for us," he said, "but it's not too late for you and him."

_Can't I have it the other way around?_ Teddy wanted to ask, but pride ensured he did not.

"You don't understand-"

"-why did you stay away all these years?" A question Teddy deserved weeks ago but was only just being thrust now.

"I have a life in Nashville. Kids, a career."

"A wife," Danny added.

"Ex-wife," he corrected, folding his hands together in his lap now they had finally stopped shaking.

"Why didn't you ever come back, even just to visit?"

_Because I didn't know how._

"Because it was easier to pretend the life that was working for me was the only one I had." Perhaps the most honest he had been with Danny so far, and wasn't this progress?

Danny shut his eyes. "It wasn't because you didn't want to see me?"

He  _did_ want to see Danny- always had. What he didn't want to see was Danny happy in a family that would never include him, Danny moving on and coping when he couldn't sleep through the night, Danny looking at him like he wanted something more than friendship but that it was too late, that he had missed his chance, and the feelings he'd once had were simply replaced with pity.

He was messed up back then, a childish excuse for a twenty-six year old man. He didn't want to share his best friend with Elena and Sofie; he didn't want to fall short against somebody he loved; he didn't want to swallow his pride and make the first move, because he was stubborn and arrogant and sure he didn't want Danny to be with anybody else but not sure how to be with Danny himself.

"I knew if I saw you, I might not be able to make myself go back," he said, just loud enough for Danny to hear, loud enough to make Danny look at him like they'd only just met.

"Like I would let you jerk your responsibilities like that," Danny frowned, but Teddy knew he was trying to lighten the mood.

It was true, though. Even on his wedding day, as he was slipping a ring onto Rayna's hand and promising he would always be faithful to her, he was thinking the only exception to this vow would be Danny Taylor.

Rayna was beautiful; Rayna made him happy; Rayna gave him the two most amazing gifts anybody could ever receive- but in comparison to Danny, she did not stand a chance in his heart.

"Can I ask  _you_ a question now?" He asked, and Danny seemed startled. "When did you find out I was in Nashville?"

Danny took out the poster he had folded into his pocket and began smoothing out the creases. "A few months ago. Victor had an infection, we didn't think he'd make it and he told me one night we were told would be his last."

"But you didn't come and get me then?" Sounded desperate and pathetic but he didn't care.

"He was high on painkillers-I thought he was talking out of his ass, being hopeful. It wasn't until a few weeks later, when he came out of it and we got him home that I realised he was telling the truth." Danny looked at the space between them. "Believe me, I wanted to drive down there and bundle you into my car so many nights you don't know."

"Why didn't you?" Danny didn't deserve this, but Teddy had been interrogated enough already- he was owed this anger.

"Because there was a woman involved- a woman who every website I went on to look you up claimed you adored. If you were really as happy as they said you were, what right did I have to take that away?" He continued, "besides that, there were two children who didn't deserve to have their lives ripped apart just because I could never get over you."

That really shouldn't have filled Teddy with hope, but it did. He wanted to say,  _I couldn't get over you either,_ but the truth was he could- trying to forget Danny had come easy to him. It was forgetting that he had loved so fiercely that Teddy found difficult, the place where all of his feelings for Danny had been stored a void, a hole, leaving him so empty he was all too often completely numb.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Danny asked, like maybe he wished he could undo what he'd just admitted.

Teddy was glad he couldn't though- it helped it know how Danny felt, especially because he wasn't quite sure how he felt himself most of the time.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Added hastily, when Danny shot him a look of disapproval, "I'll come back later, when we've both had time to think."

Danny didn't seem very happy with this response, but he didn't have time to argue before another thought struck him. "Are you ready to go see your mom?"

He wasn't ready, didn't think he would ever be, but somehow the thought Danny might be with him was better than going alone. So he nodded meekly and Danny said something about giving Sofie his car keys so she could get home herself- and Teddy had not even noticed the girl, but he didn't think he could handle another reunion right now, so he waited on the bench while Danny went back into the hospital to find her.

Forcing himself to stay put in spite of the voice in his mind begging him to just run, Teddy couldn't help but wonder if his mother thought as much of Danny as Victor obviously did, if he would have to compete for the affection of the people he had found hardest to leave at the same time, if she, like Danny, had spent years thinking he was dead when he wasn't?

Unlike the hazardous reunions with both Danny and Victor, Teddy had actually put thought into how this one might go. He had dreamt it so many times- the woman whose goodnight kisses he would stay up until all hours for as a child. His mother would cry, embrace him with open arms, hold him like she never wanted to let him go again- despite the fact he had not a single memory where she had previously demonstrated such warmth toward him. She would kiss both of his cheeks and when he showed her pictures of her grandchildren she would demand details of them; she would be the grandmother his girls had never known; she would approve of Rayna and visit during holidays.

Teddy realised it was worth noting that neither Danny nor Victor had been included in any of these plans.

 


	11. Competitions of the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think we've all guessed Saturday is the new uploading day lol again, thank you for reviewing/kudos etc. I hope you like this chapter from Teddy's POV, I think we'll all agree he really needs a hug by the end (*cough* even if he is a slight jerk) 
> 
> Enjoy! x

They had moved while he'd been gone.

The house he had grown up in had been sold; it was too painful for his parents to walk past his old bedroom, to pretend that he had not once sat at the dinner table with them, to accept he would not return to their family home- or at least this was what Danny had told him.

Teddy wondered if Danny realized what he was saying: that they moved because they didn't want to remember he'd ever existed at all.

The new house was smaller and he supposed that made sense because it was just the two of them now, all of the time, nobody to come out and stay on holidays- but still he could not help but wonder if they had a spare bedroom; an empty basement, even- ready and waiting had he ever decided to come home of his own accord.

"This is it," Danny announced, halting the engine of Teddy's rental car.

Teddy decided that remarking how it was not what he expected of a home bought by his parents- disappointingly modern, for a start- was futile. "Oh."

He didn't unbuckle his seat belt- was even contemplating begging Danny to drive him back to the airport so he could jump on a plane and go back to Rayna James being his biggest problem.

Naturally, he accepted this suggestion would not be well greeted.

"I should prepare you," Danny muttered, and the hesitance in his voice was enough to set Teddy's nerves on an even sharper edge. "Your mom...she probably isn't how you remember her."

"We've all changed," Teddy remarked, before glancing down at his hands. "I'm probably not how she remembers me."

_I'll disappoint her, just like I always have._

Danny looked uncomfortable. "No, listen-"

"-Danny, I can handle it." Forced a tiny smile because it might be out of place and unhelpful but it was really  _something_ that after so many years Danny was still trying to protect him.

"Martin-"

A part of him (a significantly vocal part) wanted to correct Danny every single time he called him that. He would not be able to stick this thing out until the end of the week with a constant trampling-over of his new identity.

Despite this though, there was something in the way Danny said the name, something that certainly had not been present on the few occasions that he had been kind enough to call him 'Teddy.' He couldn't quite decide what it was- willing patience? reassurance?  _hope_?- but it made made his mouth dry instantly and once or twice his heart had quickened in pace only to abruptly return to normal when his mind connected the fact the person Danny still cared for was not him, not anymore.

"Danny, I can handle it," he repeated, although a part of him was still marginally unsure this was really the truth.

What if his mother was angry at him for leaving, for never calling, for making them worry?

What if she was angry at him for coming  _back_?

Begrudgingly, with a heavy heart and an even heavier step, Teddy opened the car door and got out.

* * *

The maid who answered the door threw her arms around Danny and kissed both of his cheeks, talking too fast in a language Teddy had not heard in so long that his mind wasn't keeping up like it should have.

When her gaze finally fell on him, she looked back to Danny and said something else in hushed Spanish- as if he could understand her anyway- and when Danny nodded yes her eyes filled with tears. "I did not- I never thought-"

Teddy looked away, uncomfortable. He didn't remember her, and that made him feel worse because even  _Danny_ knew her... and logically he understood it was not a competition, but occasionally, remembering that was somewhat of a struggle.

He followed Danny inside, feeling odd and imposed and a complete and utter lie being welcomed into the home of his mother and father by people who were not even relatives; a hired woman he did not remember and a man who might be slightly less than a stranger to him now but certainly not by much.

In another life, he may have walked on into this house of his own accord, rather than waiting on the porch for Danny to knock. He may have had his own key, walked right in like he would someday own the place. It might have been  _him_  driving Danny out here, introducing him to maids who reacted with only slight recognition in their eyes- like they had heard a brief mention of  _Danny's_ name and nothing more. He may have been the one leading the way down the hall and into the room where his mother was, may have been the one making the introductions.

But this wasn't another life, and this was not his old one, either.

He had thought no matter which house his parents lived in, regardless of the address or the cars parked outside or the friends he did not know in the dining room, the sheer atmosphere and decor would be familiar enough to engulf him in his memories so deeply he wouldn't be able to claw his way back out, that simply by stepping over the threshold of a house owned by his family he would be his old self again. Martin Fitzgerald would be in the place Teddy Conrad had been and everybody here would be elated and he would be too busy revelling in the fact he'd actually made Danny and everybody else he used to love smile again to care about any of the complications that would stem from this.

Standing there, in the hallway, in the shadow of Danny who spoke to the maid in her native language and hung his coat up by the door like this was his second home, he didn't feel any closer to being Martin Fitzgerald again. In fact, he felt even farther from the person he used to be. He wasn't a son, a best friend, a misguided and lost FBI agent...he was just Teddy Conrad- father, mayor, constant screw-up.

His throat was dry. "Danny-" he tried to say, but a troubled croak came out instead. One Danny didn't seem to hear, or chose not to take notice of.

Danny pushed the door to what Teddy guessed was the living room open, confidence replaced with hesitance when the maid disappeared into another room (the kitchen, perhaps?) turning to Teddy with a look of ' _are you sure about this_?' in his eyes and Teddy wanted to run away before his heart could twist inside his chest any more.

The words wouldn't come, stuck somewhere between his mind and his mouth. Danny turned back around and entered the room, startling Teddy completely when he put his hand on his arm and gently tugged him forward.

It was supposed to help, this gentle encouragement, but it didn't.

There were two women in the room, sitting together on the patterned cream couch. He did not know one of them: he did not look at her long enough to double-check. His eyes fell immediately on the one he  _did_ recognise- her hair chin-length and completely grey, wrinkles and frown lines on her forehead distracting him momentarily from the eyes he had not realised were almost identical to those of his youngest daughter.

Seconds turned to minutes and nobody spoke nor moved. He was holding his breath, waiting for her arms around him, a kiss on the cheek, the loving reunion he had anticipated.

But it didn't come.

They were staring at each other, but it felt like she was looking right through him. He told himself it must be the shock...it had been fourteen years, after all.

"How is she?" Danny asked, and that was when Teddy realised he was talking about his mother to the other woman. Finally, he took notice of the other stranger- mid-thirties, blonde hair and a private nurse's uniform.

_Nurse_? Why did his mother need a nurse? Was she ill too?

"It's been a difficult morning," the woman sighed, speaking directly to Danny, not even acknowledging Teddy's presence in the room.

He looked back to his mother- she wasn't frighteningly pale like Victor had been, nor was she hooked up to an IV or clinging to an oxygen mask. She just looked...upset.

"Martha," Danny said, taking a step forward, standing between her and Teddy like a bridge, a referee. "How are you feeling?"

A repressed rage struck Teddy then. Why did Danny want him to come back so badly, to see his father, to make amends with his mother, only to jump in every single time Teddy got close to connecting with one of them? When he had attempted to pull Teddy from his new life, Danny had neglected to mention that he had neatly taken his place in his old one.

"Mom," Teddy blurted out, taking two steps forward in order to be closer to her than Danny was. "Mom."

Danny mumbled something inaudible under his breath; the nurse shot Teddy a glare. "I think you should-" she began, and it was only when his mother turned to him that he understood.

When she met his eyes, there was no recognition. No joy; no anger. No resentment or concern or relief. She just blinked and turned back to Danny.

"Who is this?" Her words were like tiny marble pebbles being dropped individually and slowly into a pond- the splash, the ripple effect, the inevitable sinking.

He deserved her attitude, probably. After all, he  _had_  left without so much as a goodbye. "Look, Mom," he began, reaching out to touch her, only for her to pull away- her expression suddenly one of innocent and pure fear- a child alone and abandoned somewhere completely foreign.

"Why is he calling me that?" She looked from Danny to the other woman- Clare, according to her name badge.

Teddy turned to Danny, confusion mixing with earlier anger. He watched Danny swallow hard.

"Martha, this is Martin. Your son."

She laughed out loud- her laugh harsh and rough and nothing like the sweet comfort Teddy remembered. "Don't be silly, dear," she said, tone strangled with the effort of remaining calm. "I don't have a son."

Clare visibly winced, and Danny shut his eyes tight, frustrated perhaps. Teddy was still trying to catch up. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't call but-" he was reaching out again before he could stop himself, and she was jerking back more dramatically this time, within seconds Danny's arms pulling him back and Clare trying to calm her down like he was some monster who'd attacked her, rather than a child reaching for his mother.

"He's going to hurt me!" she repeated and of course Clare was trying to convince her otherwise but it was too late. There were tears on her cheeks, maybe the only thing Teddy had in common with her.

"Mom," he tried a third time, pulling away from Danny's attempts to draw him back, draw him out of the room. "It's me. It's your son." Lower, barely more than a whisper, "It's me,  _Martin_."

"I don't care who you are! Leave me alone!" She leaned forward, the neatest person Teddy had ever known carelessly pushing the nearby coffee table over and smashing a glass vase in the process. "Leave me  _alone_!" She screamed one final time.

So he did.

* * *

"Why didn't you  _tell_ me?!" He was in Danny's face the moment they were alone, a fury he hadn't felt in so long overcoming him.

Danny just took a step back. "I  _tried_."

"You should have tried harder!" Maybe if Teddy had known about his mother's dementia, he would not have been so abrupt as to reach out to her, to call her 'mom' straight off the bat; maybe he would have arranged to come on a day when she wasn't being quite so difficult; maybe his yearning for a connection with her would not have been rushed, could have been taken at a calmer pace in a way that would not have left her sobbing and him enraged.

Maybe nothing Danny could have done or said would have changed the outcome, but Teddy chose to pretend it would have. If it was Danny's fault then it wasn't his, after all. If Danny could have made things easier for his mother then it took a load off Teddy.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how." He sounded stricken, genuinely guilty, but that wasn't enough, not by a long shot- not this time.

"She remembered  _you_ , though, didn't she?"

Danny looked up, frowning. "What?"

"She was asking  _you_  questions; asking  _you_  who  _I_ was. Tell me Danny, do you really want me here or did you just want to show off how easy it was to take my place with them?"

Danny had him pinned against the wall before he could finish. "Is that what you think? Are you  _that_ self-absorbed?"

He barked out a sarcastic laugh, pretending the spark in Danny's eyes did not worry him slightly. "I'm calling it like I see it: my family- my  _life_ \- seems to be suiting you perfectly."

Danny scowled at that, glaring at him as though  _he_  was the one being gripped tightly by the shirt. "I'm sorry your mother doesn't remember you; I'm sorry your father wasn't well enough to fall at your feet in apology when you went into that hospital room. But our lives didn't grind to a halt just because you walked out on  _us_ ; just because  _you_ stopped caring doesn't mean everybody else did too."

"I bet she thinks you're her son, does she? I bet she wishes you were." He didn't know where all these bitter statements were coming from- the tiny long-hidden part of his brain, perhaps, that had cracked open the moment his mother's first tears began to fall.

"Oh come  _on_." Danny looked disgusted. "Half the time she thinks I'm the mailman, the rest of the time she thinks I've come begging for money."

"What about Victor? You're telling me you and he aren't best pals now? You're telling me you aren't all of the things I couldn't be?"

It was stupid to compare, of course, but Teddy couldn't help it: Victor's son had always been a coward; Danny was one of the bravest people he had ever met. Victor's son wasn't naturally funny, screwed up punch-lines when nervous, never knew the right thing to say to their high-class friends; Danny was the life and soul of any party, could charm the leg off a stool, had a smile that made everybody in the room gravitate toward him.

There were a million things that Danny was and Danny did and Danny  _had_  done that would displease Victor and his mother, but in comparison with a son who couldn't cope in the aftermath of a hostage situation, he was no doubt elevated, a ring higher than Martin Fitzgerald had ever been able to reach.

Between a man who shamed their family and a man who had been there when needed most, the winner was obvious.

What a surprise. Being Major of Nashville and a having beautiful family did not change a thing: in comparison to Danny Taylor, Teddy was still losing.

"Only you could make this a competition," scorn evident in his voice, mingled with disappointment, and if Teddy had been capable of hurting any more then he would have. "You know what? Maybe it's a good thing you left; you're not the man I built you up to be, anyway," Danny announced, stepping back, holding hands up in defeat and slowly backing out of the room- waiting to be proved otherwise.

Teddy did not move.

* * *

"You realize I need your rental car to get home, don't you?" Danny's voice, an air of humour, as he sat down beside Teddy on the bench by the garden's central water feature.

"Yeah, I figured." Teddy wasn't sure why he was blushing- maybe his outburst earlier, the fact he had let petty jealousy get the better of his rationality.

Danny sat close enough that Teddy could smell his cologne, and somehow that made his next announcement all the more painful. "I'm going back to Nashville."

"Damn right you are; you think I want to be stuck with you forever?" He was trying to lighten the mood and Teddy did appreciate it- it broke the tension, at the very least- but the words struck the most agonising chord with him all the same.

"I mean I'm going back  _now_. Well, as soon as I can get a flight."

Danny raised his head, staring at the sky above them. "Because of me?"

Teddy shook his head. "Because of  _me_." He sighed, "I thought I could do this, but I was wrong."

"I didn't mean what I said in there, you know." He was nervous too by now, fiddling with his fingers, like he was debating where they belonged: bunched to a fist buried in his trouser pockets or laced with Teddy's. "I was never glad you left- I'm still not."

A moment of silence for words that shouldn't have been exchanged. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. It was...rude."

Danny laughed, probably thinking that it was hilarious he was apologising for the way he said something rather than the fact he said it. But the truth was, what he said had been honest, if only in that moment. What was the point in saying he wished he could take it back, when most of it was still circling around his brain?

"I never meant...I'm not...listen, I didn't mean to step on your toes," Danny said. "At the beginning, being around your dad was a-a comfort, you know? Jack was so busy trying to piece the team back together, but I didn't want to. I didn't give a damn about finding missing strangers- I just wanted to find you." He cleared his throat, looked away awkwardly. "Your dad...he understood that. Unlike Jack, he listened when I told him I had a new lead and thought whatever time it was would be the one time I'd really find you. In hindsight, he was probably just being polite, but at the time, he was the only person who had the same hole in his life that I did."

Back when Teddy was someone else, he had witnessed first-hand the determination of Agent Danny Taylor when working particular cases that hit home- the thought of the dead-ends he ran into, the leads that turned out bogus, the witnesses he'd chased down who were simply mistaken...it made Teddy sympathise with him. When put like that, what excuse did  _he_  reallyhave for never writing or calling?

"I didn't plan to get close to them- not like this anyway. I just thought that maybe...maybe they had information I didn't. Maybe it was something to do with your family...maybe through them I could get more information on where you'd go," Danny said, looking ashamed with himself for admitting to using Martha and Victor, but Teddy was ever-so-slightly relieved. It was selfish and he knew it, but he wanted Danny on  _his_ side, exclusively, so it was a reassurance to know that the relationship threatening that had initially been orchestrated. "But then Victor got sick. It wasn't until then that I realised your Mom had been ill for a while too. You know how proud they are- you know them better than I do, after all. They never asked me for help and I never imagined I would be able to...but you were gone and Victor and Martha weren't- they needed me like I knew you had. I had realised too late that I didn't give you what you wanted, so maybe I was overcompensating. Hell, maybe I still am- I don't know. I guess, deep down, I thought that if I did enough for them, somehow it might mean the universe owed me a favour of my own in return."

Teddy didn't need to ask what that favour was. "You just wanted to help." Stating the obvious, realising too late that in his guilt-fuelled haze he had wanted to blame somebody for the place he'd lost in his parent's lives- Danny was the easiest target.

"I could never replace you," Danny said. "You're...a tough act to follow." Nudged him with his elbow until Teddy was smiling.

"Thank you for taking care of them," Teddy said, but it felt forced. It was not his place to thank Danny for that- he had lost all emotional rights to his parents the same day they had lost their emotional rights to him.

"You can thank me by letting me take care of  _you_."

Teddy sighed. "I can't stay; I don't even have a change of clothes. Besides," paused to look up at the house behind him, no longer fit to be regarded anybody's home, "I don't think I can stay here."

" _Duh_ ," Danny scoffed, resting a hand on Teddy's shoulder, and for the very first time it didn't make him nauseous. It actually felt...nice. Not like it once had, but it was  _better_ than he thought being touched by Danny ever could feel again. "You're going to stay with me. At least for a few days."

"I couldn't possibly-" the nausea returned with a vengeance, because there was still the potential girlfriend they had yet to discuss and what if she lived with Danny? Teddy wasn't sure he could not watch Danny wrap his arm around the waist of a no-doubt beautiful woman, gaze into her eyes like she hung the moon, lace their fingers together and pull her into a kiss like both Martin  _and_ Teddy had dreamed Danny would do to  _him_ one day.

"-don't be ridiculous. You're staying with me and that's final. I have a bunch of spare clothes that'll fit you- you look like you've lost weight anyway. You don't stress eat anymore?" Punctuated with a poke to a flat stomach through his shirt, and Teddy couldn't help but smirk.

"Shut up. Actually, I just work out more now."

"Oh yeah, must burn a lot of calories, running away from your responsibilities." If Danny had said that an hour ago Teddy probably would have socked him, but now he just laughed along, until he couldn't tell which laugh was his and which was Danny's. This was not an insult; this wasn't two men trying to tear each other's lives apart. It was a couple of old friends, who time had changed, trying to recapture a bond they once shared and finding it increasingly easy- but also increasingly frightening.

"See? Look at us. I bet you didn't think you'd be laughing at my astounding humour three weeks ago when you were throwing me out, did you?" Danny looked behind him at the house. "If we can turn it around, so can you and your mom."

Danny may only have been saying it to convince Teddy to stay but it didn't matter in that moment. Just like it didn't matter Teddy didn't have a change of clothes, or that Danny was probably head-over-heels in love with his new girlfriend. All that mattered was that he felt more at home touching shoulders and sharing laughs with Danny than he did in his mother's house, at his father's bedside, cursing the New York traffic.

It was enough, if only for the few days he intended to stay.

 

  



	12. The Truth can be so sickening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering, I'm completely disregarding Nashville-canon (Season 2 has yet to begin to air where I am) so I won't mention anything that happens in the show for the foreseeable future at least. 
> 
> As always, thank you and enjoy! x

Teddy was already regretting the decision.

"You know, I really don't want to put you to any trouble-"

Danny rolled his eyes as they reached the floor of his apartment. "Don't be ridiculous." He stuck his key in the door.

"You still live here?" Teddy asked, admitting his surprise that through fourteen years and at least one marriage Danny had remained in the same apartment.

"I didn't want to move in case-" Danny stopped short, looked away awkwardly and Teddy felt his stomach flip.

In case he came back, came here looking for Danny?

It was more thought regarding him than his parents had demonstrated.

Danny pushed the door open without bothering to finish his sentence- a relief, actually, because Teddy had no idea how to reply. "Guys!" He called as he stepped inside, expecting Teddy to follow. "I'm home!"

The woman who appeared in front of them was much too young to be Danny's girlfriend- her chin was still round with adolescence, her CCNY hoodie too new. Aside from that, Teddy recognised her from the picture Danny had showed him.

It was Sofie Delgado.

Well, she was probably Taylor now, if Danny had officially adopted her...Teddy wasn't how that had worked. Not that it really mattered.

Her eyes widened with surprise when she recognised him; she held her hand to her mouth. "Uncle Martin?"

It was an innocent greeting- the only name she had ever really known him by- but it made Teddy bristle anyway. He shouldn't correct her- the poor girl looked confused enough, after all- but when she said that name it made his body tense...not at all the reaction he had when Danny said it.

Sofie turned to her father, looking a little betrayed. "How did you- did you know where he was, this entire time?"

Danny looked at Teddy and then back to Sofie. "No. I only found out a few weeks ago... I went to Nashville to find him."

"I thought you went to Nashville for work." A boy's voice, and Teddy hadn't even noticed the teenager behind Sofie until he took a step forward.

Danny smirked at the kid whom he had told Teddy about on the drive here. "Well, technically I  _did_ find a missing person."

Sofie laughed, but the boy didn't. Danny's smile did not waver, but he rested his hand on the kid's shoulders and squeezed.

"Caleb, this is Martin." A hesitation- slight but still there- before adding, "but we're going to call him Teddy." Teddy forced his best smile but the boy did not return his sentiments.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Sofie asked, looking Teddy up and down like if she stopped he might vanish again.

Teddy cleared his throat and looked at Danny. "Actually, he's going to stay with us for a few days."

Sofie's smile was wide. "That's great," she gushed. "It's all so great. Just this morning we were talking about how you could be dead-" She cut off, touching the back of her neck, like she didn't know what to do with herself now reality had set in. "It's just such a surprise that you're here."

Teddy blushed, not comfortable with this conversation solely centred on him. "Thanks. Uh, can I uh- use your bathroom?"

Danny nodded and made a suggestion they re-locate to the kitchen to plan dinner (and only Danny Taylor could make cooking sound like a military operation) leaving Teddy alone to stumble down the familiar hall.

The last time he had been in this apartment the walls had been lined with frames empty of proper pictures- the fake smiles of a family of actors inside purely decorative plastic and wood.

"I'll fill them someday," Danny had told him once when he commented on how unnerving he found the artificial glee of strangers, "when I have enough memories." And he had stopped to look at Martin then, as though maybe he were trying to suggest those memories would be made with him.

Now though, the same frames were filled with pictures of the teenagers in the kitchen. School photographs- smiles too forced and hair too neat but a fire of determination in the eyes of both children enough of a reminder that they were Danny's, regardless of genetics or legality. As his eyes scanned the other pictures, he watched them grow up right in front of his eyes, watched Sofie flourish from a smiling ballerina engulfed in her mother's embrace to a triumphant ice skating champ holding a shining trophy with pride; watched the boy, Caleb, transform from his shy, hesitant, almost forced grin, hiding behind an array of toys one birthday, to being caught mid-laugh surrounded by colour the next; dressed in a dreary suit for his Holy Communion, clutching a tattered bible (Danny's own, no doubt) to the centre of a baseball team with his peers, holding his bat like it were an accessory and not a weapon.

A picture of the three of them: Sofie, Caleb and their obviously-doting father on some beach late enough in the year to be wearing coats and scarves and hats- because Danny had always insisted Winter was when the ocean and the sand was most beautiful. Their smiles matched in width and potency: they clung to each other, the tide and the icy sun a backdrop behind them.

Teddy had only just laid eyes on these kids but already he could tell Danny had been, and was still being, a damn good parent- alone or not.

It made him think of his own children, of how he and Rayna were coping with parenting separately. In comparison to Danny, it seemed he was doing a pretty piss-poor job.

When he spent as long as he could in the bathroom- just considering how to act, what to say that wouldn't break the delicate thread Danny was still clinging to- he returned to the kitchen, surprised they weren't even whispering about him.

"We had Pizza last night," Caleb complained and Danny whacked him with the dish-cloth he was using to dry up bowls leftover from breakfast.

"Things sure go to the dogs when I'm not around," Sofie mused, and Danny looked away, distant, for reasons Teddy did not quite understand.

"What do you want to eat?" Danny asked after a moment, turning to him. "I can cook or we can order in- guest's choice."

"Oh, I'm not really hungry." It was a lie- he was  _starving._ He just didn't want Danny to make a bigger deal of this than necessary. "Just do whatever you would normally do."

Danny looked at Caleb and, in unison, they said, "Thai."

Sofie rolled her eyes and shot Teddy a, ' _you see what I have to put up with?'_  look.

He smiled- maybe it wouldn't be so hellish here, after all.

* * *

Having a meal with Danny was surreal- having a meal with Danny and his two children was something else entirely.

Sofie graciously filled any silences with tales of her travels; Danny fussed over Caleb and Teddy in turn, constantly asking if they were okay as they were both being so quiet.

Teddy was quiet because he didn't know how to fit into this setup, this family- yet another one which did not belong to him; he figured maybe Caleb was quiet because he simply wasn't comfortable around strangers.

After they'd finished eating, Teddy watched the boy clear the table and begin to wash up- something that surprised him, not simply because he thought everybody had dishwashers now (although that was a slight shock) but because Caleb was a teenage boy who seemed anything but domestic.

"Tonight's your night off," Danny announced. "Go watch some TV with Sofie. Teddy can help me out."

Instead of looking relieved, Caleb seemed annoyed with this altering. He sulked out of the kitchen, Sofie following fast behind.

"Is he alright?" Teddy asked, getting to his feet and making his way over to the sink.

Danny nodded, but he still looked concerned. "There's just a lot going on right now."

"Does he see his real parents?" Too late Teddy realised this was insensitive but Danny's eyes had already darkened- a lion protecting his young with all the strength he had.

"I  _am_ his real parent," he practically growled and Teddy took a step back for his own safety.

"I meant his  _biological_ parents," Teddy explained. "His mother."

This seemed like the wrong question as well- Danny looked away from him. "She isn't involved in Caleb's life right now. We're keeping it that way." It sounded like the insistence of somebody who was feeling threatened, but Teddy couldn't say he blamed him. It would be the equivalent of him having to share Maddie with Deacon.

"He seems like a pretty good kid," Teddy said, an attempt to pacify the conversation. In all honesty, he hadn't really been around the boy long enough to judge anything other than the fact Caleb was solidly ignoring him.

"He  _is_." Somewhat defensive but Teddy found it admirable of adequate parenting- not to mention slightly adorable.

"I meant you're doing a pretty good job," Teddy reiterated, handing Danny a glass that was dripping wet.

Danny still seemed a little hesitant to accept this compliment, struggling, "we're doing just fine."

They continued to wash and dry in silence until Danny gave in, changing to a much more neutral subject less likely to enrage either of them. "You can sleep in my room."

Teddy almost choked. "W-what?"

Danny had a self-satisfied smirk on his face before Teddy's disbelief was even spoken. "Get your mind out of the gutter, you sick freak. I'll sleep on the couch."

Teddy felt himself blush. "I already said, I don't want to put you to any trouble…"

"Shut up and stop being so nice to me just because I have the power to throw you out- it's unnerving." Danny whacked him with a dishcloth and Teddy took this as an indication that this would be the perfect time to splash soapy water on Danny's shirt- a sign of war that was met with a look of horror.

Five minutes later, they were laughing and drenched in dishwater. Not exactly the classy aftermath Teddy had always envisioned of their first dinner together, but it was damn good start.

* * *

Caleb claimed to need Danny's help with math homework- despite Sofie's instances' that Danny was quite possibly the  _worst_ person to help with math homework and Teddy's courteous offers to help instead- and the two of them went upstairs to the privacy of Caleb's bedroom.

"Is he usually this quiet?" Teddy asked Sofie when they were out of earshot.

She smiled. "You mean  _rude_?" Shaking her head, she said, "Rarely. Try not to take it personally- sometimes he even acts like that when I come home."

It was a relief to hear that it was not just him who had been on the receiving end of Caleb's 'welcoming' treatment, but 'not taking it personally' was still a struggle. "I don't want to upset him."

"He's just not used to sharing Dad with anybody but me; he's had him to himself for so long. It's best not to get involved, he'll come around in a few days when he sees you aren't a threat."

"I hope so," Teddy said, before realizing he wasn't going to be here  _in a few days._  "If it's going to be a problem, I can stay at a hotel-"

Sofie shook her head again. "-No way! Dad wants you here; that's all that matters. Besides, you're always welcome with us: this is your home."

She meant New York, probably, not this apartment- but all Teddy could think was that if it had been his home, it wouldn't have been hers; that one reason he had been so quick to disappear in the first place was because he, like Caleb, did not want to share Danny with someone else (in his case, Sofie's mother.)

"So you're a Mayor in Nashville, now?"

He looked up. "How did you-?"

"-We googled you," she said casually, "While you and dad were in the kitchen. YouTubed your ex-wife too- she's a really good singer."

Teddy was at a loss for words. "Uh, thanks?"

Sofie smiled, but there was an edge to it now. "You know my Dad barely dates."

He looked back down to the floor. "You mean he isn't um, seeing anybody right now?"

"Nope."

He cleared his throat, thinking of the girlfriend he had imagined would live here. "You sure?"

Sofie frowned. "Yeah. I think I'd know."

Should be a reassurance, but it wasn't. Sofie had been away for a whole month, after all. Plus, it was possible he was seeing somebody and simply hadn't told the kids yet- Danny seemed like that kind of protective parent, one who made sure something was serious before adjusting his children to the idea.

It was strange to refer to Sofie as a child or a kid when she was old enough to drive, own her own property, drink alcohol. The woman in front of him had finished college; spent the last month abroad with only friends for comfort. She was a full grown adult by anybody's standards- but Danny still spoke to and about her like she was his baby, and maybe that was why Teddy had trouble seeing her as anything else.

"If you're thinking of making a move, you better win Caleb over first," Sofie warned. "He comes first with Dad- 100 times out of 10. I know everybody says it, but he  _really_ wouldn't even consider going out with someone Caleb didn't approve of- not even you."

"I-I'm not…" That wasn't why he had come here...was it? He had wanted to rekindle a relationship with his mother; maybe mend things enough to allow his father to die in peace… _and_ get Danny's cell number while he was at it?

Suddenly, he felt like he had taken advantage. Danny was treating him like a broken bird; something he could mend, someone he could fix with a few days of compassion and laughter. And maybe he was right- maybe he _could_ \- but there was always the fact Teddy would inevitably fly away, go back to Nashville, and although Danny insisted he was okay with it, he had already proven once he wasn't very good at letting go.

Teddy had no intention whatsoever of staying in New York longer than it would take for his father to die and for him to sort proper care for his mother- but that didn't mean he had the willpower to prevent nourishing his relationship with Danny. They were getting closer, and while at first he had contributed it to the fact Danny loved the man he used to be, there was no denying there was still something small between them- regardless of who Teddy was now.

It was a matter of time before something would happen and then Teddy would go back to his own family, one thousand miles away, and where would that leave them?

"Sofie, I'm not here because I want to make a move on your father." He did his very best to force a little laugh to illustrate how ridiculous he saw the situation.

Sofie laughed too, and only then did Teddy realise there were tears in her eyes. He imagined what her childhood must have been like- her father forever searching for someone who wasn't there.

As though he had implanted the thought in her mind, she looked up at him. "You know, for a long time, I blamed you for the divorce."

He turned to her, an apology already on his tongue before he realised he did not know what he was actually apologising for. " _Me_?" Certain he had heard her wrong.

She nodded. "It was easier to blame you than it was to blame them, I guess. Because you broke Daddy's heart; because you being gone meant they were always at the office, working overtime to find you or just because they were short-staffed; because Dad would spend money searching for you that Mama thought he should be saving; because every time they argued, your name came up; because you weren't there to defend yourself." Hesitation in her voice, like the next part was secret information, "Some days, I used to hope you'd never be found, so that they might eventually get back together."

Teddy hadn't thought he could not feel worse than he did a moment ago- he was wrong, of course. He hadn't just destroyed Danny's life when he left; he'd destroyed his marriage, too.

"Sofie," he said. "I didn't know."

That was a lie, in part. He had wanted Danny's attention and he had wanted Danny to leave Elena- he just hadn't planned on that success making him feel this shitty.

"I know it's not your fault  _anymore_ ," Sofie said, smiling a little weakly. "But when you're nine years old and everybody you love is leaving, you don't think logically. I needed somebody to blame and you were an easy target...now it feels so dumb to even think about, but back then it made so much sense."

It  _still_ made sense- to Teddy at least. When he heard Sofie talking, all he could imagine were Maddie and Daphne: each a daughter torn between two parents who love her, blaming everyone and anyone for their divorce in a desperate attempt to maintain a relationship with both of them.

"I'm really sorry I left." Empty words, a void of any proper emotion- he  _wasn't_ sorry, not really. A life without Nashville would have been a life without Rayna, a life without his daughters. Furthermore, he did what he had to do in the situation he was put in- at the time, there was no other way out that he could see; at the time, leaving was the only way to save himself.

"Just don't...hurt him again, okay?" An intended threat, no doubt, but the concern shining in her brown eyes made it an unmistakable plea. "I know you probably think he's gotten so tough since you left- and he  _has_ \- but you're still the one person who can change that."

The hair on his arms stood up with the power of what she had just said. "Sofie, I'm really not-"

" _-Interested_?" She raised an eyebrow: a  _yeah right._ "Well, I just wanted to talk to you about it. I like you, I'm glad you're safe and I don't want you to ever be uncomfortable here, but if you showed up to mess around with my Dad's heart then Caleb and I won't hesitate to kick your ass." She smiled, sweet and soft and joking, but it still made Teddy unnerved.

He nodded. "Right. Well, uh, thanks for the warning, I guess." He wanted to tell her it was in vain, that it was not necessary because he was much more sensible than he had been fourteen years ago, but the words would not come. Probably because the last thing he wanted to do was lie to her, and he could not undoubtedly guarantee that things with him and Danny would go no further.

"No problem," she said and he blinked, wishing he had dreamt this entire conversation.

* * *

He made an excuse about jet-lag sometime around 8 o'clock so he could leave the living room gracefully (checking once again if Danny  _really_ didn't mind that he sleep upstairs.)

Danny bedroom smelt like Danny- no real surprise, but an added complication all the same. After two hours of staring at the ceiling, Teddy realized he was not going to sleep and instead busied himself trying to think of a solution to the problems in his life.

An hour and a half later, his mind was creating problems where there hadn't been any before; he had solved not a single one.

He decided to call the girls to say goodnight- only to get Rayna's answering machine. She was probably singing at The BlueBird with Deacon or doing something equally as disturbing, and she most likely did not see the harm in bringing the girls along.

Of course this was all hypothetical- the three of them could just as easily have been at Tandy's- but Teddy's insecure mind played on the first option. He imagined Deacon charming his daughters, promising the most beautiful guitar and a record contract and even their mother's happiness- all things Teddy could not give.

He thought about going home early, making an excuse about needing to see the girls and just keeping them for the foreseeable future...to hell with what Rayna thought. He was not the one flaunting attractive alternatives in their faces, stealing their loyalty with the glamorous life of young girls' dreams, poisoning their innocent minds with influences like Juliette Barnes- surely that made him the better parent.

Except it was not a competition- they loved their mother, regardless of the lies and the busy schedule and the all the petty disagreements. They loved Teddy too, and he knew it, but being apart from them always made it difficult to remember that.

Quietly, careful not to disturb Caleb and Sofie as he passed their bedrooms, he made his way downstairs to get a glass of water.

"You steal my bed and then you don't even sleep?" Danny's voice as he tried to sneak past the living room without being seen. "The  _nerve_!"

Teddy sighed and, against better judgement, walked into the room. "I'm not tired anymore, I fell right asleep when I went up. I'll take the couch now- you go upstairs."

Danny- wrapped in a blanket with a cell phone in his lap and a table lamp the light the room beside him- smirked. "I was kidding you know." He held up the cell. "I just called Clare to check on your Mom. Apparently she was better after she had something to eat- sometimes she just gets agitated like that, I guess."

Teddy looked away. "I'll have to go back tomorrow."

Danny nodded. "We can call ahead, if you want."

"I need to get used to seeing her like that," Teddy said, shaking his head. Then, he remembered: "I'm sorry I reacted like that today."

"I think you acted how any normal person would. I'm sorry I didn't properly prepare you- it must have been a shock."

"I don't think I've apologised as much in the last fourteen years as I have to you today," Teddy admitted and Danny just laughed.

"I guess we both have a lot to be sorry for."

Teddy didn't like where this was going- where it had the potential to lead, if he allowed it, so he changed the subject. "Why did you and Elena break up?"

Danny blinked at him. "Didn't I tell you? We were too different; we wanted different things."

It was the worst lie he had ever heard, so he didn't feel guilty for pushing. "I mean, why did you  _really_ break up?"

"She stopped loving me," Danny said finally, after a few moments of painful silence, "and I guess I stopped trying to make her."

Teddy could relate. He folded his arms so he wouldn't reach out for Danny's hand, which he was aware was only mere inches away now. "I'm sorry."

Danny looked up. "It was years ago- I'm over it." It probably wasn't even much of a lie- maybe he  _was_ over Elena. But, like Sofie had pointed out, that didn't mean he was over Martin Fitzgerald.

"Has there been anybody since?"

Danny smirked again, and Teddy wanted the ground to open and just swallow him whole. He knew what this sounded like: somebody who cared, a little too much, about Danny's love life.

Which was, in all honesty, exactly what was.

"No one serious."

"And now? Are you-I mean, is there somebody…?" He was babbling, anxiety eating the chest out of him as he tried to rail this conversation around and failed miserably.

"No way." Danny laughed. "Middle-aged FBI agent with a teenage son and an adult daughter and little time for anything else but work and baseball games- not a huge seller, believe it or not."

Teddy could think of a million ways to describe Danny Taylor- loyal, protective, loving. Reliable, selfless, dedicated. Funny, gorgeous, a smile that lit up a room. He was perfect- or at least he had been, for Martin, fourteen years ago.

Teddy didn't want to think anymore, so he just sat down beside Danny on the couch, so close he could feel the other man breathing. "You realize I can't be the person you remember, don't you?"

Danny inched away, and every hope Teddy had regarding them crashed to the ground.

"I  _wish_  I didn't," Danny said, and just like that, it all fell apart again.


	13. Sisters/Daughters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read! Two chapters to make up for last week. Enjoy! X

When he woke up- still on the sofa, no less- Danny was nowhere to be found, and he was initially relieved.

Teddy had dreamt of a time when he was not in control; when their lives were at the mercy of somebody else; when he had first thought he was beyond saving. Bloodshed peppered with fear and the acknowledgement of impending death; the wondering if they would ever be found; the confliction between what was better for them after all they had endured- to just give in and die or continue to fight when the odds were stacked against them.

He had not relived their time as hostages for many years and that was indeed all the gratification he needed to confirm that he had undoubtedly done the right thing- for him, at least- by leaving New York and Danny behind.

Not that he had ever questioned it- well, much. Last night had had him second-guessing, questioning whether he had been selfless or selfish, half-heartedly wishing he could have a chance to do things just a little differently. Now, Teddy knew that even the rush of affection that he felt when Danny smiled was not worth the torture of replaying the ordeal that had torn him so violently from sanity.

He got up from the couch, stumbling into the hall and wishing he had kept his Rolex on- he had no idea what time it was.

"Breakfast!" Danny hollered, and that was when he realised he must have slept for quite a while. Teddy stood in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, debating silently whether to pretend he was still asleep and wait for Danny to leave for work or to swallow against the nausea rising in his throat and act like a normal human being for a change.

He chose the former, of course, but just as he was backing back into the room he had just left, a door opened somewhere else and Sofie stood in front of him in an old hoodie and pyjama pants.

"Hungry?" She asked, as though they had not had a tense conversation the night before.

Teddy shook his head. "Um, you know what, I think I'm going to uh- go to the bathroom first-"

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Good luck with that. Caleb's in there, gelling his hair. He's a total bathroom hog."

"Guys! Breakfast!" Danny again, more demanding this time, impatient like he had somewhere to be.

"Come on, before he has a coronary," Sofie said with a laugh, taking Teddy by the arm and all-but dragging him into the kitchen.

Danny stood by the counter, lacing his tie, with a piece of toast lodged in his mouth. He nodded as they walked in, but he didn't make eye contact with Teddy.

He should be thankful, but he momentarily mourned this loss of intimacy.

"Morning!" Sofie greeted, cheery as she kissed her father's cheek and took over his struggle with a tie. "Honestly, how on earth are you going to survive without me?"

Danny did not answer- couldn't, really, because he was chewing bites of toast- but Teddy thought he could detect slight disappointment from him. Sofie was an adult now, she was probably planning to move out and his sympathy was with Danny...he thanked God it would be years before he would have to deal with his daughters leaving home.

"Caleb!" Danny called when he had finished his slice. Sofie sat beside Teddy at the table, spreading a ridiculous amount of strawberry jam on her own toast as he awkwardly wondered if Danny was purposely ignoring him or if mornings were simply too hectic for legitimate conversation in this apartment. "I'm leaving in three minutes!"

"When I was his age I could get the bus stop myself," Sofie mumbled, but Danny just shot her a look.

"Caleb isn't you," he said curtly, like he was sick of this comparison. Teddy, as an outsider, couldn't help but wonder why Danny seemed so quick to jump to Caleb's defence all the time- if it was the hallmark of a good if slightly over-attached parent, or just one who was so accustomed to having to fight for their child.

Sofie did not take his tone personally, simply raising her eyebrows and- when Danny looked away, at his watch- rolling her eyes. "I'm just saying."

"Yes, well, thanks for the contribution," Danny said, sounding anything but grateful. "What are your plans for today, anyway?"

"I'll probably have lunch with Mama and Juan," she explained. "They want to go shopping for things for the new house- I said I'd go with them." She winced slightly, like she wished she hadn't added the last part, and Teddy didn't quite understand why.

"Caleb!" Danny yelled again. "Two minutes!" He turned back to his daughter. "Isn't that rushing things, just a little?"

She shook her head. "The house itself is ready, we just need furniture and stuff. Besides, Juan starts work at the end of the month so the sooner we're moved in the better."

Danny choked on the coffee he was gulping down. "The end of the month?"

Sofie nodded. "I don't have to go right away," she said hastily, as though that should calm him.

Danny didn't seem very reassured, from what Teddy could see. "How about you?" he asked, turning his attention from Sofie. "You're going to see your dad, right?"

Teddy wished he could say no, but it wasn't worth the inevitable lecture he would receive. "Uh, yeah." The truth was, he didn't want to go anywhere near his father's hospital room again- especially not alone.

"Right," Danny said in a tone that implied he knew full well Teddy had no intention of doing so. "Well, you have your Mom's address anyway, right?"

Teddy nodded. He had it saved in a note on his cell phone...while Danny Taylor knew it by heart.

"I'll give you a call later, let you know what time I'll be home at- I might be able to meet you at the hospital." This sounded like a much better idea, in Teddy's mind. He resented Danny's bond with his parents, yes, but nowhere near as much as he resented his father. Regardless of how it would hurt to see them interact again, it was a damn-sight better than sitting alone and in silence with a dying stranger. "Caleb! I'm not kidding!"

Just as this final demand had been yelled, Caleb appeared in the doorway, dark circles under his eyes and mess of hair enough to contradict what Sofie had told Teddy about Caleb spending forever in the bathroom. His bag was slung over his shoulder and his sneakers were laced haphazardly. "I'm ready," he mumbled.

Danny looked him up and down, setting his coffee on the counter. "What is it?" he said immediately, concern now in the place of impatience. "What's wrong?" He placed his palm on Caleb's forehead, but the boy dodged away. "Are you sick?"

Caleb shook his head. "Can we just go already?"

"Did you sleep in?" Danny asked, eyebrows knitted together and Teddy couldn't help but be surprised that Danny Taylor had turned into such a fussing parent.

"Did you sleep at all?" Sofie said, and Caleb shot her a look.

"I'm fine. Geez, I just want to go." He didn't wait to be interrogated further- he just walked out of the kitchen. They heard the door to the apartment open and slam shut.

Sofie and Danny exchanged looks. Teddy busied himself pouring his own coffee so he wouldn't feel like such an intruder.

"Is something going on at school?" Sofie asked, all the earlier bitterness she had exhibited gone. She was a worried older sister who obviously doted on her brother, not a jealous kid in a competition for attention.

Danny shook his head, taking an extra piece of toast and a banana- for Caleb, no doubt. "I'll talk to him in the car." He kissed her forehead. "Have a good day."

"Love you," she chirped.

"Love you too," Danny returned, and then his gaze fell on Teddy. "I'll call you," he said, in substitute for the sentiments he had just shared with Sofie. "Good luck with...things. Help yourself to any clothes and stuff. If you need me you know where to find me."

He was gone before Teddy could do more than thank him, and then it was just him and Sofie again- like the night before.

"How old are your kids?" Sofie asked him and he thanked God that at least she had not broken the fresh layer of ice with a question about his (non-existant, it seemed) relationship with her father.

"Maddie's thirteen, Daphne's eight." Just thinking of his daughters made him smile and suddenly this morning wasn't so awful. Knowing that they were finishing up last night's homework over their respective bowls of Fruit Loops brought him a strange sort of comfort.

Sofie returned his smile. "What are they like? Do they get along?"

Teddy nodded. "They're pretty close. We got lucky: they've always been best friends. They're very defensive of each other, on the rare occasions one is in trouble it feels like the two of them are pitted against us," he laughed, struggling with the fact he still said 'we' instead of 'I' and 'us' in the place of 'me.' Teddy added, "They have their arguments, obviously, but for the most part it's nothing dramatic. They have the same interests- music, mostly- so I guess that helps."

"It must be nice, to have that connection." Her voice was soft, somewhat regretful, like she wished for the sibling-relationship he had just described.

"Things with you and Caleb aren't always rosy?"

She sighed, then shook her head. "I love him; I know he loves me. But...it's different than your kids. For one thing, there's a pretty significant age difference. For another, the only thing we have in common is my father." She laughed a little at this, but Teddy could tell it hurt. "I remember when Dad told me he was going to foster him- I was so excited, you know? I'd finally have a little brother to play with. I could teach him to ride his bike and he'd look up to me and we'd tell each other things we couldn't talk to adults about." She paused, looking down at her hands like she felt guilty of having such a typical expectation. "Then he got here, and he wasn't my built-in-best-friend. He was just this kid who couldn't talk the way a normal kid could, who didn't know how to play with toys the way I did, who woke us up every night because he was crying in his sleep."

Teddy did not know what Caleb life had been like before it had become entwined with Sofie and Danny's, nor did he have any right to. But clearly there was something significant in his past- abandonment, neglect, even abuse- that contributed to the behaviour Sofie had just described, not to mention the way he acted around Teddy.

"It sounds like you had a lot of adjusting to do," he said honestly, recalling the way Maddie too had initially seemed so cheated when Daphne was born- that this sibling they had promised her would be someone to play with was a helpless newborn unable to do much but steal her parents attention. "That's something every kid goes through when there's a new brother or sister."

"I think I let the disappointment get in the way of us at the start. By the time Dad had taught him to behave like a normal kid, I was too old to watch Disney Movies and build lego houses with him. I was a teenager and I thought I was too cool to be a six-year old's playmate." Now, Sofie looked up at Teddy. "I remember this one time: him crawling into my bed one Sunday morning because he wanted me to read to him. In hindsight, it's so cute, you know? The first real time he had reached out to me, his first try at being physically close with somebody other than Dad, and I should have been so proud and encouraged it. Instead, all I could think was that it was 8am and I wanted to go back to sleep; that he had barged into my bedroom without knocking; that he wouldn't get punished for invading my space, because he never did." She shook her head, like she couldn't believe her childish thoughts. "I told him to leave that morning and every Sunday morning after that. I threw him out of my room when he would come in with a toy he wanted to show me. I yelled when he'd try and climb onto my lap while we were watching TV. I pushed him away and, eventually, Caleb just stopped trying."

"What did your father do?" Teddy asked.

Sofie shrugged. "What could he do? He couldn't force me to play with my brother. Sure, every now and then he'd ask me to be a little nicer and cut Caleb some slack, but most of the time he'd just distract Caleb so he wouldn't come pleading for me to play. He tried to make up for the attention I wouldn't give him. The more I pushed them together, the more I resented the bond they had."

"Sofie," Teddy said softly, "your father adores you."

She smiled. "I know. He loves us both, and equally- he's never intentionally played favourites. But you see it yourself: Caleb's more dependent; he struggles with grades because his anxiety makes it difficult to concentrate in class; he's an easy target for other kids to pick on. It's like Daddy spends all of his time worrying about one of us, always divided about who needs what from him, but now I'm older, I want it to be different."

Struggling with a troubled kid like Caleb and a teenager who was mad at the world couldn't have been easy for Danny...certainly not on top of caring for sick parents who weren't his.

Sofie took a sip of her coffee. "You're going to take good care of my Dad this time, right?"

Oh no, they were back to him. Teddy wondered if it was possible to crawl under the table and hide from that question in particular. "Uh, what do you mean?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Just keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

A promise he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep, so Teddy didn't speak. He took another sip of coffee, hoping that the day would improve but, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing it would not.

He offered to leave Sofie at her mother's- a polite suggestion, really, but she took him up on it anyway. The drive there was nowhere near as awkward as their previous conversations had been. She talked about university, about her mother's new husband, about how New York winters had surely gotten worse since he had left.

When he pulled into the drive, she squeezed his arm in thanks. "I'm sure your dad would really appreciate some flowers or something," she said helpfully, and then she got out of the car and walked toward the two-story house.

Teddy made a mental list of all the things he shouldn't say to his father: angry, hurtful words that were intended to sting as much as he had when he'd been left on the doorstep of a stranger in Nashville. Being nasty would not make this any more painless for anyone involved- he owed it to Danny, and himself, to act like the adult he was and put aside the resentment he felt in favour of finally laying this sorry-excuse-for-a-family to rest.

While he was convincing himself that honesty was certainly not the best policy when it came to Victor, he missed the turn for the hospital. Taking this as a sign- if somewhat pre-meditated on his part- he took the next left instead, starting on the same road that had just yesterday brought him face-to-face with his mother.

The house was less inviting than it had been the day before. He remembered thinking it was smaller than he expected, but standing on the front step in Danny Taylor's shirt he felt like he was lost in Daphne's favourite bedtime story: Alice in Wonderland, where nothing made any sense.

"Mr Fitzgerald!" The maid gleefully greeted when the door opened. With a smile so wide Teddy had to wonder if it hurt, she reached for his arm and squeezed. "You came back!"

He struggled to nod, feeling like he was enforcing her calling him by a surname that wasn't his anymore. "Um, I wanted to see my mother?"

"Of course! Of course!" Her energy was draining, yet he had no choice but to follow her inside and down the hallway. When they came to the living room, just like before, she nodded and then continued on into the next room- leaving him to face this alone.

With dread and apprehension dominating every nerve he had, begging him to turn around and leave, he took a long deep breath and reached for the door handle. His hands were shaking, but they had been all morning following the recollections brought about by his dreams.

When he finally mustered the courage to push the door open, the first thing he noticed was the soft hum of a song in the background. It took him a moment too long to realise it was Rayna singing- one of her first songs, if the innocence in her voice was any indication.

The nurse from yesterday was sleeping sounding in the armchair by the fireplace. His mother, on the other hand, was very much awake, fiddling with the dials on a handheld radio.

He knocked on the door gently, despite the fact he was technically already inside. The nurse did not flinch, a magazine open wide on her lap. His mother glanced up briefly, before turning back to the radio with a pout.

"I can't change the station," she muttered, turning it upside down, tapping it from the back.

Teddy approached her slowly, cursing himself for spending last night having a non-productive conversation with Danny rather than finding out actual information on his mother's condition. He knew about as much about dementia as the next person- that it affected mainly the elderly; that it caused them to be confused, to forget; that it meant they were unable to recognise even their children.

This last piece of knowledge had been learned first-hand, unfortunately.

Still, despite these basics, Teddy had no idea what kind of care her condition warranted. Was he supposed to go along with her, follow her lead? Or take control of the situation like he so desperately wanted to, remind her of who he was and how he loved her, despite the years that he had been absent?

"Do you mind if I sit down?" He asked, tone low so as not to wake Clare.

His mother didn't answer, simply shrugging- a habit she had always hated when he did it, oddly enough- before hitting the radio off the arm of the couch.

"Hey, hey," he said softly. "Can I take a look at it?"

He wanted to move closer, but he didn't. Knowing enough to know that this was another relationship he would have to work to rebuild, he refrained from touching, from simply taking it from her hands. Instead, he sat, patiently, and waited for her to make the first move.

Begrudgingly, she handed it to him. She followed her arms across her chest. "I can't change the station," his mother repeated.

He turned both dials on the front, but the song did not change. No static, no annoying radio presenter, no wavering in Rayna's singing. It was only then he realised the music wasn't coming from the radio, but from an old record player by the window.

His mother had an old record of Rayna's?

She used to hum Johnny Cash songs under her breath on the rare mornings she would cook breakfast for them; he could remember being five years old and waking up after a nightmare, and she chose to sing him back to sleep with a Loretta Lynn classic. Teddy hadn't thought of his mother's music taste in years, but now he did, a new thought came to his mind: had another reason he had fallen for Rayna been her career as a country singer, meaning she was a sweet reminder of home?

"Do you like this song?" he asked, trying to distract her.

Teddy didn't know the name of it- it was likely written long before he met Rayna anyway- but that hardly mattered: Rayna's voice reminded him of Maddie's, and that was enough to make him hesitant to change it.

"My son's married to her, you know," she said, and his mouth practically fell open.

"Is that right?" he managed to say. He wondered how she had found out. If she had known all along, or if his father had broken the news to her right around the time he had told Danny.

"He's a good boy," his mother said, nodding, "My son. He's a good boy."

Words caught in his throat- he couldn't speak in case he wouldn't be able to stop.

"I miss him." She pulled the couch pillow tight against her chest, a substitute for the child she longed to hold but couldn't- completely oblivious to the fact he was sitting merely inches away, fighting back tears.  
"He misses you too," he blurted out before he could stop himself. His eyes had already begun to sting, but it hardly mattered. She remembered him, even if it wasn't how he wanted her too. She had missed him, even if that didn't make up for the years he had been living under the same roof as his parents and missing them.

It wasn't just through his childhood that he had missed her. No, he had missed her when he was in a hospital room in Manhattan, listening to Danny promise him everything would be okay, and then turn right around to his girlfriend and child-when he felt like an outsider, a loner; he had missed her on that drive to Nashville, with the details of a strange life in his lap and a man beside him who was having no argument about what was best; he had missed her on his wedding day, when Tandy was gushing over Rayna like the mother she had had to be to her since their mom's death and he had stood beside his wife, wondering if maybe this new family would replace the one he had never really felt a part of.

His mother looked up, her eyes wide and questioning and all he wanted to do was hug her but he knew that if he did he would ruin this brief moment they shared. He had a million things he was ready to tell her: I'm sorry, I should have called, but I'm here now; I'll make everything alright again; I don't blame you for anything anymore; you have two beautiful granddaughters.

"Who does?" She asked finally, and every speech he had prepared went out of his mind, every hope came crashing down. His presence here hadn't acted as a miracle; he couldn't fix his mother, no matter how much he needed to. Their relationship would change a thousand times a day- he could introduce her to Maddie and Daphne all he wanted, but it would only confuse her even more, and afterward, she wouldn't even remember they had visited.

"Nobody," Teddy choked out, wondering if it was too early to call it a day. "It doesn't matter."

Two hours later and Teddy was seriously considering showing up at FBI headquarters and paying Jack Malone to let Danny have the rest of the day off- simply so he wouldn't have to be alone.

Knowing this was quite possibly the worst thing he could do right now- what was he even supposed to talk to Danny about anyway? Hadn't last night pretty much shed a shamed light of their 'relationship'?'- he dug his cell out of his pocket and dialled Rayna's home phone, hoping to catch his girls between school and their dance class.

"Hello?" Maddie's voice mid-laugh, enough to put a smile on his own face.

"Sweetheart?"

"Daddy?" Hushed, a quieter tone than before. "Uh, just a minute." A rustling and thumping in unison as he imagined her running up the stairs to the privacy of her bedroom. "Are you okay?"

He almost laughed. This teenager whose heart had been broken by lies was asking him if he was okay. "I'm fine," a complete and utter lie, so he quickly added, "How are you?"

"Um, good," she said, but she sounded distracted. "Where are you, anyway?"

"New York- it's a long story. I'll be home soon, though." He cleared his throat. "Listen, if this is a bad time-"

"It's just-" she stopped, contemplating how to word it. "-It's just, Deacon's here."

Deacon's here. Innocent enough, right? It's not like she had called him 'Dad' or something- Teddy should be relieved. Instead, he couldn't force his mind past the newly-placed affection in her voice when she said Deacon's name.

He had known she would eventually want to talk to Deacon. He just envisioned being there for that conversation, in the kitchen on call for when it would inevitably end in tears, in the same state, within walking distance at the very least.

But he wasn't. He was a thousand miles away where he couldn't judge how their little talk was going; he was a thousand miles away where he couldn't hold his oldest daughter if and when she needed reassurance.

"Daddy, don't be mad at me," Maddie said, all earlier happiness in her tone completely forgotten and he couldn't take that, couldn't handle it at all that Deacon had made her laugh and he was close to making her cry.

"I'm not," he said too quickly. "I just didn't mean to interrupt."

"Dad, don't be like this, please-"

"Maddie, can you put your Mom on?"

Another voice calling for Daddy in the background and Maddie sighed heavily. "Hold on, Daphne wants to talk to you."

"Daddy, Daddy!" She cried out when her sister relented and gave her the phone. "When are you coming home?"

He shut his eyes tight. "Soon, honey. Soon."

A door slammed shut- Maddie, probably. "Daddy?" Daphne asked, her usual bubbliness disappearing in time with her sister. "When you come home, can I come live with you?"

Teddy ran a hand down his face, resting his back against the kitchen countertop. "Why? What's wrong?"

"They keep singing together, the three of them. Laughing and talking together on the couch and there isn't any room for me," Daphne's voice was hitching with the effort of not crying, and his heart panged knowing he couldn't reach out and comfort this child, either.

What kind of father was he? What was he doing in New York, revisiting old wounds and mending relationships long past the point of repair when he had two little girls at home who needed him?

Her words made him think of Danny's new family too. They weren't perfect, but they worked best as a three- it was a dream to imagine he could ever be able to seamlessly fit or join.

In that moment, he understood exactly how his eight-year-old felt, and that probably said a lot more about him than it did her.

"Baby, it's alright. Your Mom and I love you, you know that. And your sister loves you too- she and Mommy just have a lot on their minds right now." It bugged him to no end to have to make excuses for Rayna when all he wanted to do was fly back to Nashville and snatch the kids away from her. But for the moment in time, Daphne and Maddie were with their mother and there was little he could do about it beyond encouraging his youngest to make the best of a shitty situation.

"Maddie doesn't want to go to dance today because Deacon's here- but she doesn't wanna be alone with him yet, either. So I have to miss it too! That's not fair, right? Can't you take me?"

She was reaching out- not because she couldn't miss one dance class, but because she was feeling excluded and wanted it to change. There was nothing he would rather do right now than pick her up in his arms and be the knight in shining armour she wanted. But he couldn't be: because it was not conclusive of supportive co-parenting; because by the time he would get back to Nashville dance class would be long over; because, the way he felt right now, he didn't trust himself to bring her back to Rayna's afterwards.

"I wish I could," he admitted. "But I'm too far away. I'll be home by the weekend, though. We can talk about it then."

"The weekend?" Daphne moaned. "But that's ages away!"

It was four days, but to an eight-year old who was lonely that was sure to feel like forever. "I'll call you every night in between," he promised, "and then, on Saturday, we can go out to eat- you pick the place."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. So long as your sister's okay with it." He didn't want to consider the possibility that Maddie might not want to spend the weekend with him. "Can I talk to your Mom now?"

Daphne sighed, reluctant. "Fine," she muttered. "You'll call me tonight?"

"I promise."

"I love you," she sang down the phone, enough to make him smile again.

"I love you too. Do me a favour? Tell your sister I love her as well, will you?"

Daphne was silent for a moment before agreeing. Then she called out 'Mommy!' and said goodbye.

Rayna picked up the phone downstairs. "Teddy, I don't have time for this right now. I'm in the middle of-"

"-of what? 'Family night' with the alcoholic - who almost got you killed- and my daughters?"

He hadn't even realised he was this angry until he heard Rayna's voice.

"They aren't just your daughters," she countered, and if that was supposed to sting, well she succeeded. "Maddie wanted to talk to him. What did you want me to do, bring her to an AA meeting to see him?"

"You thought our family home would be a more appropriate place?" Delicately and deliberately ignoring the part about Maddie making the first move because it plain hurt too much.

"I really can't deal with you right now," she sounded exasperated, but he couldn't sympathise.

"Is that what you said to Daphne?" A low blow, really, and now he was using their daughter to hurt her- something he had sworn he would never allow himself to do- but hey, hadn't she started it?

"What are you talking about?"

"She doesn't necessarily feel comfortable with 'Uncle Deacon' playing Dad while I'm gone."

Rayna sucked in her breath. "That isn't what I'm doing."

"It sure seems like it," he snapped. "You couldn't have waited until I was, oh I don't know, in the same state before letting Deacon try and win Maddie over?"

"Teddy," Rayna said steadily, as though her patience was wearing incredibly thin. "This isn't a competition. Maddie wanted to talk to him. She's old enough to make that decision."

"She's thirteen-years-old! She doesn't know what she wants! She changes her mind on a daily basis- as you well know. Didn't you think waiting a few days to give me a chance to talk to her was the decent thing to do?" He demanded, sounding like Victor for a split second and loathing himself for it.

"I wasn't thinking about you. I was thinking about my daughter."

Her words fell like hailstones around him. "Your daughter?"

"-no, Teddy, you know I didn't mean-"

He saw the first page of Daphne's storybook in his mind- a picture of Alice falling down the rabbit hole. He felt like that now- like he was falling and falling and what was above was just as uncertain as what was below.

"Is that how it's going to be now? She's my daughter too. You can try all you want to make Deacon into the hero that he isn't, but you can't change the fact I'm the one who took her to school everyday, I'm the one who sat up with her when she was sick, I'm the one she calls Daddy." He was bitter, so bitter. Angry at being replaced and resentful at being left out and he had been so sure that Nashville was where he belonged, but now all he could think was that he'd been so very wrong.

"Maddie loves you," Rayna said, as though that was enough to soothe him. "But she's bound to be curious. We can't stop her from asking questions. She needs to know she can come to us, even if it's something we don't want to hear-"

"-I bet you feel so great about this, don't you?" By now, he was mostly angry at himself for hanging on, for being hurt that not only had Maddie been engrossed with Deacon according to Daphne, but that Rayna had been too. They were over- had been for some time now...jealousy should no-longer be second nature when it came to her. "You always wanted a family with him. I would always fall short."

"I think I could say the same to you," she retorted, and it took his breath away.

What did that mean? Did she know about Danny? No. No way. She couldn't.

Before he could reply, she continued talking. "Listen to me," Rayna said. "Deacon's going home soon and I'll talk to Daphne, but don't ever expect me to prioritise how you feel above the needs of my children. What's done is done; all we can do now is make the best of it and try to get our girls through it."

He should be agreeing- she was finally speaking a language he understood, after so many misunderstandings and misconceptions between them.

But instead, he gave into the coward he used to be and ended the call- without even saying goodbye.


	14. Caleb's Question.

 

By some miracle, nobody vanished unexpectedly today. This meant that Danny had spent most of his day riffling through paper work and drinking coffee in Jack's office- away from the annoying rookies- which was boring, yes, but it meant he could leave on time for a change.

It also meant he could pick Caleb up from school- something he didn't get to do nearly enough, something that would spare Caleb the anxiety that came with having to ride home on the bus.

Not to mention the fact this extra time alone was needed given the way his son was behaving lately. He parked on the curb outside of the middle school- early for a change- and waited for Caleb to materialise.

The bell rang and teens filtered out through the double doors in groups of twos and threes. Two girls with matching hairstyles were linking arms and laughing as they made their way down the steps; a group of boys in football shirts were yelling over each other like typical jocks. Eventually, as the kids who wore black and the kids who were unbeatably intelligent came and went, Danny spotted Caleb leaving too.

He was deep in conversation with a girl Danny recognised from class pictures. She was small, compared to Caleb at least, and she had mouse-brown hair that fell just below her ears. She was pretty, but that was nowhere near as important to Danny as the way she watched Caleb attentively when he talked, the distance she kept- six centimetres or thereabouts, exactly the comfortable space for Caleb- the indulgent laugh she gave that had Caleb joining in.

It was probably ridiculous that Danny was more worried about Caleb dating than he ever had been about Sofie. Sure, her boyfriends had been on the receiving end of his fatherly interrogations, but his daughter had good taste: she chose guys who paid for dinner, who held her car door open, who did not remind Danny of himself at sixteen.

He could trust his daughter's judgement, not only in the boys she dated, but also in the decisions she would make regarding their relationship. During her two year-long relationship in high school, she had never missed a curfew, never skipped through the door smelling of alcohol, never bunked off school to make out in the parking lot. When she and Mark broke up, it wasn't because one of them had cheated or that it had become abusive, but because they were attending college in different states and chose to focus on their educations.

Sofie was stubborn and strong, like her mother. She was independent and she knew what she wanted; she had always been honest. Caleb was different. He was more likely to give into something to make someone else happy; he had the potential to grow attached within a short space of time. He was more likely to hide things from Danny, to struggle with boundaries involved in a relationship- intimate or not. If and when the relationship fell to pieces, Danny couldn't imagine Caleb picking himself up quite as gracefully as his sister had managed it.

Another kid- wearing the dumbest hat Danny had ever seen, quite possibly- said something that had the girl turning her head. She looked back to Caleb, said something, then gave a brief wave before going to join the hat-kid and his friends.

After that, Caleb walked down the steps alone, a frown set on his lips. Danny felt his heart break a little.

No parent wants to see their child walking alone- no parent wants to have to face the fact their kid is the one being left out in the kindergarten playground, or pushed up against the middle school lockers and threatened, or teased in classes when the teacher's back is turned.

Caleb had never been popular. He had a handful of friends who had filtered in and out of his life: seemingly good kids who Danny knew did care about his son, but caring about somebody and understanding them were two completely different things. No kid his age could understand why Caleb would constantly reject their offer of a sleepover, freaked out if he was in the car alone with their parent for an extended period of time, acted overly clingy one moment and withdrawn the next.

Over the years, Danny had grown to recognize these things for what they were, to distinguish the reasoning behind Caleb's behaviour that everybody else deemed as odd: because sleeping in someone else's house was something that terrified him- he couldn't feel safe and secure and sure he wouldn't be hurt; because it brought back memories of being alone with an adult he didn't trust, memories he would rather not face; because he was battling concerns over being abandoned again alongside allowing himself to become too close, struggling to reach the balance between the two.

It wasn't Caleb's fault, but as much as he wanted to, Danny couldn't make himself blame the other kids either. Sure, they rejected him and teased him, but they were still kids who had-thankfully- never endured the abuse Caleb had in those four years before Danny. Caleb couldn't communicate how he felt with them which made it impossible for them to accept how he acted, so one-by-one, they just gave up and disengaged completely.

Nowadays, Caleb's best friend was a kid called Kenny. He didn't attend the same middle school as Caleb- which made school lonely- but he lived close by. Kenny didn't understand Caleb either, but the gap between Caleb and his peers had grown narrower with age, and most days he functioned perfectly well.

Despite this, the kids at school still remembered the times when Caleb would skip baseball games because he refused to change in the boys locker rooms; they remembered how he once burst into tears in the middle of a science class because they had been learning about sexual reproduction, and talk of genitals made him uncomfortable; they remembered that he had isolated himself almost immediately when puberty hit, not wanting to partake in conversations about boyfriends and girlfriends.

All of this meant that Caleb spent most his time in school alone. His teachers had mentioned it at the last PTA meeting a few months previously and Danny had tried to talk about it, but Caleb had simply clammed up. A few weeks ago, when probed again, Caleb assured him things were much better now.

Idiot that he was, Danny had believed him.

Now, he watched Caleb walk down the steps alone, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he dodged around other kids who took no notice whatsoever of him, and all he wanted to do was make things better for his son.

It was frustrating that teenagers couldn't see past Caleb's mood swings and anxiety to the person he really was- who had gone from a kid who mumbled only a few words to being able to speak three languages pretty damn fluently (English, French and Spanish), who was practically one with his ipod, who adored music and could memorise song lyrics after one playthrough. He had always struggled with reading, but he continued to read anyway, determination and dedication Danny could take no credit for; he counted down the days to Christmas every year from December 26th; he wanted to grow up and help kids who had been hurt like he was, even if it meant reliving it, over and over again.

He was wonderful for a thousand reasons that the kids who picked on him would never understand, and Danny wholly believed it was  _their_ loss, but nonetheless, it was a knock to his son's self-esteem.

It took Caleb a moment to spot him amongst the cars (he had text him earlier and told him he would be picking him up) but when he did, he walked faster before opening the passenger door and climbing inside. He slipped his backpack off and tossed it in the back seat.

"Hey," Danny greeted, pretending he had not just been pining for his son's lack of a social life. "How was your day?" He started the engine and pulled off the curb.

Caleb grunted something in reply which told Danny that he was purposely pissed with him for something.

"I think he need to talk," Danny announced. "I know you said this morning that you're fine, but I really think-"

"-How come you never adopted me?"

His words hit Danny with the force of the wind. " _What_?" He looked around for somewhere to pull over, but they were on a busy street at the school-time rush- he had to keep driving. "Caleb, what are you talking about?"

"You adopted Sofie," he said, as though that where explanation enough.

He hadn't added it, but Danny heard it anyway:  _Why didn't you want me that much?_

"I mean, I-"

"-Was it because you thought somebody else might take me off your hands? Was it because you didn't want me permanently?"

Caleb was asking questions he already knew the answers to: no and  _no_. They had talked about this before, years ago. Why on earth was he bringing it up again now?

"Of course not. When I fostered you, I fully committed to it being forever." Legally, it was until he turned eighteen, but Danny could not imagine they would ever cut ties now- their lives were too heavily intertwined.

"But you never adopted me."

"I thought about it," Danny said honestly, stealing a glance at his son when they stopped at a red light. "I  _really_ thought about it, for a long time. But then your mom showed up and she wanted to see you, and I knew I would never let her take you away from me, but I also knew that I didn't want to be the one who took you away from  _her_."

Caleb turned to stare out the other window. "Don't you think that was a bad call, in hindsight?"

There wasn't really a right answer to that. Of course he had had days when he wished he had never allowed Lacey back into Caleb's life- thinking of the hurt his son could have been spared, especially. But his decision to do so had been based on what was best for Caleb at the time, what he himself would have wanted from a foster parent- to put him first- the notion that he had been given too many second-chances meaning he was unable to begrudge Lacey one- no matter how much he wanted to.

"I know how much that hurt; I know how much you're still hurting, and of course I wish I could have stopped it before it got that far," he said. "But sometimes, I have to step back and let you work these things out for yourself. It sounds cheesy, but if I had made the choice for you, then you wouldn't have learned anything, and you'd still be wondering about her right now."

Caleb didn't answer him directly. "Didn't anybody else ever want me?"

Danny still wasn't understanding where these questions were coming from- what did it matter if another family had wanted him, when Danny had loved him so fiercely?

"There was one couple," Danny admitted, regretting it as soon as he did so, because Caleb's head turned to quickly he was certain it had caused some sort of pain. "When you were seven. They wanted an older child, because a baby would be too much hassle, and Luisa thought of you."

"So what happened?"

"Luisa sat me down and told me. We talked about it, for a while. I didn't want to lose you; you had just settled with us and you were happy, the last thing you needed was to be uprooted and move halfway across the state." It all sounded like an excuse for ' _I was selfish,_ ' but Danny didn't care. He  _had_ been selfish, but only because he had known there wasn't a person in the world who could love his son as much as he did, only because he had just been told the case was closed on one person he loved and was not about to let go of another. "Luisa agreed, after seeing how well we were doing. After that, she brought over a long-term fostering agreement and I signed it."

"Didn't you think I should have made  _that_ decision for myself, too?" Caleb asked. "Or do you get to pick and choose my rights- just like everybody else?"

Danny almost stopped the car. "Caleb, that wasn't it. I wanted what was best for you, I wanted-"

"-Except it wasn't what you  _really_ wanted, was it?"

" _What_?"

Before Caleb could reply with something equally as biting as the last remark, Danny's cell phone began to ring. He was still driving, so he snuck a glance at Caleb. "Can you get that?"

The glare he was met with suggested it was not by choice, but Caleb truly hated his ringtone, so he obliged.

"Hello," Caleb muttered. He tutted, and then Danny caught him rolling his eyes. "He's driving."

"Put it on speaker," Danny prompted, and Caleb sighed again before tapping the relevant area of the screen. "Hello?"

"Danny? Hey," Martin's voice, jaded and somewhat peeved by the sounds of things. "Uh, you remember how you said you'd meet me at the hospital?"

Danny's stomach turned. He couldn't deal with this right now; he had an angry teenager to talk down from a very dangerous ledge of resentment. "Uh-huh."

"Yeah, are we still on for that? I spent the day with Mom things- uh, you know what they're like with her. She's alright, but she's tired now and I don't want to overstay, so I thought if I met you there we could-"

He should say no outright. Blunt. Not even bother with an excuse, simply tell him that his son needed him and his children would always outrank Martin Fitzgerald or Teddy Conrad and surely the other man would understand this? If he couldn't they really couldn't have a future together, even as friends.

He should, except there was a hope in Martin's voice, his words translating to:  _My mother doesn't remember me but my father will and I honestly can't decide which is worse._

He should, except he would only have Martin for a few more days and then he would leave again, gone and God only knows when their paths would cross again...if ever.

He should, except Martin had been screaming in his sleep last night as they sat together on the couch, and he had only stopped with Danny had wrapped his arms around him- although he hadn't opened his eyes- and for those few precious moments Danny had pretended they were two different people in two different lives.

"Give me an hour," Danny said, biting the inside of his lip. "I'll meet you there."

"Thanks," Martin replied, and then he was saying goodbye to both Danny and Caleb, hanging up and sounding something close to relief.

Danny didn't wait for Caleb to talk again. "I didn't adopt you because things were perfect as they were. You were safe and we were happy and fostering you long-term meant you took my surname anyway, so it wasn't like it would have made a huge difference day-to-day." Everything he said was the truth. At the time he had been contemplating it, he would have loved to adopt Caleb: but it was for  _his_ benefit (because  _he_ wanted to security that adoption would offer) not that of the child, and for that reason he decided against it. "We were a family from the very first day I brought you home; I loved you from the moment I visited you in that care home and you looked right at me because you remembered that I had been the one to save you. I loved you then and I have loved you every moment since. A piece of paper couldn't have made that love any stronger; a certificate you'll never actually use wouldn't have made us any more of a family."

Caleb didn't reply, so Danny continued as he pulled into the complex parking lot. "Maybe I'm in the minority here, but being a parent was never about DNA or a name on a birth certificate to me. I love you  _and_ your sister- exactly the same, every second of every day. Regardless of who your biological parents are; regardless of how I became your father; regardless of legality."

"Do you realise that if you'd married Sofie's mom, you probably wouldn't have fostered me? Do you realise that if things in your life had been different, even just a little bit, I wouldn't be with you?"

"Which is why," Danny said, "I wouldn't change a single thing. I don't remember what my life was like before you and Sofie were a part of it- I wouldn't want a life if it meant I didn't get to be your father." He reached out and ruffled Caleb's hair gently. "None of that other stuff matters, Caleb."

Caleb opened the door, while the engine was still running. "It matters to me," he said, and then he climbed out and headed toward the stairs to their apartment.


	15. Back to Me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about lack of update last week. Have two chapters (one ending well, one ending...not so well) to make up for it! Enjoy and thank you as always!

He paced the corridor outside his father's hospital room for a near forty minutes before finally working up the strength to call Danny and practically  _beg_ for his company.

What Teddy wanted was support, but it was no longer necessarily purely with regards to his father. After the uncivil conversation with Rayna- not to mention the reluctant realisation that Maddie was going to make her own decisions about Deacon, with or without his input- Teddy wanted more than just the presence of someone else by Victor's death bed. What  _exactly_ he wanted from Danny now his heart had shifted and the piercing pulse of betrayal stung in every vein he had, Teddy did not know for sure. Still, he was certain that what he  _did_ want was to be with somebody right now who didn't think he had fucked every single thing up, who had always offered him a second chance, who had not managed to replace him as easily as everybody else had.

When Danny did arrive- looking like he was totally exhausted, despite the fact he'd been let out of work at a reasonable time- Teddy couldn't help but feel relief flooding his body.

"Thanks for coming," he blurted out, feeling like an idiot because his cheeks were flaming.

Danny, shook his head. "Don't mention it," he said, distracted, and Teddy suddenly wished he hadn't called him at all. He had forgotten that things between the two of them had been strange last night: in his rush to feel anything but alone, he hadn't cared enough to remember that this morning, in Danny's kitchen, had been awkward at best.

"Listen, Danny, about last night-"

Danny looked up, eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a second before his eyes widened in realisation. "Don't worry about it," he said, flippant, like he hadn't been thinking about Teddy at all, and that hurt far more than it ought to. "It's my fault, if I've been making you feel like nothing's changed."

Danny didn't understand, but how could he? There had been a few precious moments shared between them when Teddy had felt like he belonged here with Danny- like maybe it really had been his mistake and he had belonged here all along- but for each of these moments there was a least another thirty when he had felt like he'd been thrown into a whirlwind, intruding on the life of a former friend, a once-home in which he was now simply a guest and nothing more.

It wasn't the fact that nothing had changed between them, it was that Teddy was beginning to wish they hadn't.

He sat down on a chair in the hallway and buried his head in his hands. Danny stood for a moment too long, proof that he was indeed as hesitant as Teddy felt. Finally, he sat down beside him and sighed.

"Did something happen with your mom?"

What exactly classified as  _something_? Did it really matter if something had, anyway, when she wouldn't be able to remember tomorrow?

"It's not about her," Teddy said, although he was still trying to convince himself of this. In all likelihood, it was a combination of the rejection today had brought, and all of this suddenly mattered so much more now he was a wall away from his father and inches away from Danny Taylor- the two bookends of his life.

"Then what?" Danny asked, followed by a pause, " _me_?"

He should have taken the opportunity now it had arisen- ought to have jumped at the chance to talk openly. Except his thoughts could not yet be structured into sentences, at least not regarding Danny Taylor- a fact which was frustratingly similar to how he had felt when he'd left New York fourteen years ago.

"It's stuff back home," Teddy admitted, rubbing his fingers against his temples. "My kids...they don't know why I'm here."

Danny cleared his throat- Teddy felt him shrug, their shoulders millimetres apart. "There are some things," he said gently, "they're better off not knowing." He looked down at his hands, at a gold ring that said '#1DAD.' A father's day gift perhaps, yet one he wore in place of a Wedding ring- evidence Caleb and Sofie would forever come first. "Sometimes the only thing you can protect them from is the truth."

Speaking from experience, probably, and Teddy almost asked before he remembered he was no longer Danny's best friend, his confidante; before remembering he no longer had right to know the intimate details of Danny's trials as a father.

"I've already lied too much," Teddy said, quiet and regretful. There had been the lies about Maddie's paternity; the lies about a fake-childhood with his stand-in father he had fabricated on the spot; the lies about his marriage, about his quest to be Mayor. Everything from their last name to their paternal grandfather was fake. What kind of father built a life for his children on a false identity, on mistruths of that magnitude?

_One who didn't want to lose them,_ he thought, and it was true. All of those lies, they had been worth it if it meant his daughters never looked at him like he had looked at Victor yesterday when he'd visited.

Except protecting your kid was a touchy subject with Teddy. It was Victor's excuse for sending him to Nashville, no doubt, but it was a poor one. Perhaps he was being too negative, but the only time Teddy could ever remember either parent trying to protect him he had been left to feel abandoned and unwanted and anything but safe.

He never wanted Maddie or Daphne to have to feel that type of lonely, especially not because he had pushed them away to make himself feel like a better father.

"There's so much going on with the girls right now. I don't know how to tell them when things are so hard at home; but I can't keep lying, either."

"All they need to know is that their Dad loves them," Danny said, sounding like he was talking more to himself than Teddy. "That he'll keep loving them, and that he isn't going anywhere- ever - no matter how difficult they make it sometimes."

Something Deacon had never been able to promise, at least. If he had, Teddy would not have been the stable suitable father that Maddie had needed, and for that he was supremely grateful of Deacon's addiction.

"I don't know how much longer I can be away from them," Teddy said, convincing himself once again that Deacon would no doubt eventually let Maddie down and his darling daughter would need him to pick up the pieces of her heart; that Daphne had meant it when she said she wanted to live with him full time, and had not simply been angry at her mother.

He expected Danny to lecture him about how he had only been back in New York for a day, but he didn't. Instead, he nodded slowly. After a moment of silence, he started talking. "I understand, you know. Sofie's moving to Spain with Elena and her new husband," he said quickly, adding, "I don't know why I say  _'new'-_ they've been married five years now, together for almost seven. I guess it doesn't matter how much time passes, when there's a child involved it's never easy to just get over it like it's another relationship that didn't work out."

"Sofie's moving?" Suddenly, his conversations with the girl- well, woman- made sense now. She wasn't trying to scare him off...she was trying to test him, because she knew she wouldn't be around to for much longer. He remembered what she said this morning:  _Just keep an eye on him for me, okay?_ She was a protective daughter looking out for her father the only way she knew how- and maybe that explained Caleb's mood, too.

When Danny nodded, the last part began to sink in. Twelve years post-divorce, and Danny was still struggling.

Here Teddy was, barely more than twelve weeks (officially, at least) and wondering why sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and instinctively reach for Rayna- before remembering not only did they no longer share the same bed, but the did not live together, either; it made it a little more okay that when he got an invite to a high-class party where a plus-one was expected, he would find himself momentarily stunned that it was not his wife's name on the invitation next to his.

"I think Rayna might be back with her ex," he said, scowling even as he said the words. "I stopped loving her like that a long time ago, and I thought that would mean I wouldn't care if she dated...but it's  _him_ , you know?"

Deacon had always been more than just Maddie's biological father in Teddy's eyes. He was Rayna's first real love; the only person who could put a sparkle in her eyes; her first heartbreak. He was the one she had never been able to get over, the competition with which Teddy could not compare…

...which was exactly what Danny was, and probably always would be, to him.

"Maybe you just feel like this because you're lonely," Danny suggested diplomatically. "You should get back out there. Date a little. I bet the ladies in Nashville are queuing up to dine with the Mayor." Said with a cute little smirk, but Teddy told himself it was forced: Danny didn't really  _want_ him to date, did he?

"How come you aren't seeing anybody?"

"Didn't you ask me this last night?" Danny asked and Teddy nodded.

"Yeah, and you avoided the question- as per usual."

Danny thought for a moment, and then he smiled softly. "I was being honest last night when I said I don't have the time, but I guess there are other reasons too, you know? Like how it would need to be somebody pretty special if they were going to be a part of not just my life, but Sofie and Caleb's too. Plus, I've never really felt the need- at one point in my life, priorities just shifted. I stopped wanting to go out at weekends and meet people; I chose story-time and board games and homework over flirting and dinner dates. Being their Dad...well, it's a hell of a lot more rewarding than a relationship." Then, in a lower voice, "Somewhere along the way finding you fell down the list and finding Caleb's smile and Sofie's pet hamster took its place."

That didn't cut him quite as deeply as he expected. Maybe because he always knew Danny was suited to be a father; maybe because he had seen how happy his little family had made him; maybe because Teddy had pushed Danny out of his own mind in favour of building a life with Rayna and his girls. They were both guilty of giving up and if the product of those failings were four fantastic kids they respectively adored, had it really been a mistake at all?

"Anyone can tell they think the world of you," Teddy said, smiling. Even though it killed something inside of his heart to say it, he added, "I think you made the right choice."

When Danny looked up, Teddy realised just how close they really were. If he angled his head, if Danny tilted his chin, if one of them shifted just a little...their lips would be curving together, finding the perfect position, planting the softest kiss.

"You still came back," Danny said, his voice more a whisper than anything. "You came back to me." There was some sort of spell; some magic holding their stare at each other; Teddy couldn't look away- he knew Danny didn't want to. A shiver ran down Teddy's spine and the hair on his neck was standing up and it was the sweetest torture to be this close and to know he would have to leave sooner rather than later.

"Home," Teddy mumbled, his brain not able to function past the point of  _Danny's looking at me like he's spent the last fourteen years waiting for me to make up my mind._ "I'll have to go home soon." The same thing that had ruined the moment they'd shared the night before, on Danny's couch in the darkness, almost as close as they were now.

This time, Danny didn't pull back. He didn't snap or avoid Teddy's eye and he didn't seem uncomfortable. Instead, he inched closer, until his breath was mingled with Teddy's, until they had both forgotten they were in the cold hospital corridor outside the room of Victor Fitzgerald.

"Not until you kiss me," Danny said, and although he knew there were a million, in that moment, Teddy's mind could not conjure one single reason why he shouldn't.


	16. We were fine

It was one kiss, one single kiss that was barely even that. It lasted only seconds- nowhere near as long as Teddy wanted- no,  _needed-_ it to, but it was enough for now, enough to give him the courage he needed to face Victor again.

"How are you feeling?" Danny asked Victor, standing a deliberately significant distance from him, yet Teddy could see his hands were still shaking a little- obviously still in shock himself.

Victor's eyes were half-open, his lips chapped and cracked. He looked like he had a cold sore coming, but Teddy had the good grace to stare at the floor rather than the facial flaws of a dying man.

"Better now," Victor said, but Teddy could tell talking took energy he clearly didn't possess.

"If you're tired, we can come back," he found himself saying, and he tried to ignore the look Danny shot him.

"I-I want to see you," his 'father' said, curling his hand into a fist, like he wished he was clutching Teddy instead of the bed sheet.

Danny stepped aside, motioning for Teddy to move closer to the bed, and although his legs were moving of their own accord, he was wishing they weren't. Danny busied himself with organising a stack of magazines on the table in the corner of the room, yet Teddy knew the other man was listening and waiting to step in- just in case.

"You look well," Victor murmured and Teddy found himself blushing because  _of course he looked well_ he'd just kissed Danny, for God's sake. It wouldn't be a surprise to find out he was a beaming beacon of light after an experience like that.

"Uh, thanks." He was uneasy, uncomfortable, but he didn't feel angry like had the previous day. Looking down at the man in the hospital bed, with a pale, wasted face and tubes coming in and out of his chest, Teddy wasn't capable of hatred. Just...pity, maybe.

It was very hard to see somebody as a villain when there was a catheter bag beside them.

"Your mother…"

"I've been to see her," Teddy said quickly, knowing that if Victor were to explain not only would it take all day and all of his energy but also all of Teddy's restraint and patience too. He didn't want to say it, but the Martin part of his brain blurted it out anyway: "She doesn't remember me."

Victor frowned, his eyes had already begun to tear, and suddenly Teddy wanted to run away again.

"I wanted you to...get here...before...she got that bad...but…" his battle with breathing came to an end when he broke off mid-sentence in a fit of coughing. Danny made a move to reach his side, but Teddy was closer. Not thinking, Teddy simply reached for the oxygen mask and placed it over his father's mouth and nose.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Danny's stilling, the soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Teddy wanted to tell him he was an idiot for getting his hopes up: this did not change one single thing, other than he wanted answers before Victor hacked up a lung.

"How long has she known where I live?" He asked, when what he really wanted to know was  _how long have you both been pretending I don't exist?_

"She...doesn't," Victor managed, between taking deep breaths. "Nashville's a...big place." Realising this was not the answer Teddy was after, Victor added, "I told her just after I relapsed. It was right around...the time her memory started to... _decline_  and I...didn't want to leave her...wondering."

"Maybe you should take it easy," Danny chirped up from the other side of the room. He glanced at the chair by Victor's bed. "Teddy, sit down. I'll go get us some coffee, okay?"

Teddy almost smiled- he hadn't called him Martin, and that had been his biggest fear post-kiss. What if Danny really had misunderstood everything? What if he had wanted to kiss the wrong version of him? It was relief to know this wasn't the case.

But then Danny left them alone, and Teddy didn't feel like smiling anymore.

"Teddy?" Victor said, the name sounding foreign coming from this mouth in particular. "Do you want...me to call you that?"

Teddy would have preferred he didn't call him anything, to be honest. "Don't worry about it." After all, he didn't plan on staying very long.

Reluctantly, he sat down in the armchair. Victor's thin fingers were stretched out toward him, but Teddy pretended not to notice, knowing his father had too much pride to make the first move.

"How are you, son?" Victor asked, his breathing less laboured now- like he was relieved to see Teddy planned to stay even a few minutes longer.

"Fine," Teddy replied, too cold and blunt and not what Victor wanted but he didn't trust himself to say much else- afraid of the childishness that might come tumbling out if he allowed it to.

"You have a family?" Victor pushed, and when Teddy's head snapped up in horror Victor offered a weak smile. "Henry told me, before-"

Before he died?

"He had no right to tell you," Teddy muttered, feeling vindicated and betrayed. Henry should have told him he was in contact with his father; Henry should have asked him what information about _his_ life he was willing to disclose. "Two daughters," he sighed, after a moment of deliberation that what was done was done- there was no changing it now.

"Granddaughters," Victor breathed- part-awe, part-illness.

"They're not your-they already have two Grandfathers," Teddy corrected too quickly, and when Victor blushed he felt a pang of sympathy. Lamar was far from perfect, but he doted on the girls in the way he hadn't his own daughters; Henry had had his flaws but Maddie and Daphne had sang together at his funeral, had cried at his graveside- there was no replacing those two men in their eyes.

"I-I'm sorry. I just thought-"

He slipped his wallet out of his jacket pocket, pulled the joint school photograph of his daughters he kept there. It was almost a year old now- Maddie's braces had since been removed and Daphne's hair had grown thicker and much longer, but the innocence in their eyes had not changed, a fact Teddy thanked God for every day.

He placed the picture in Victor's hand. Slowly and carefully, Victor raised it up to his face, and the tear that rolled down his cheek was enough to force Teddy to look away.

"They're beautiful," he said, the closest to a gush Teddy had ever heard from his once-father. He watched as Victor ran his thumb over Maddie's face. "She reminds me so much of you."

That was all it took to have Teddy snatching the photo back- the punch to the stomach he needed. Once, he had even convinced himself that Maddie looked like him, so much so he was sure the DNA test had been wrong. But then she had grown into her brown eyes, the same ones her mother had been unable to resist in Deacon Claybourne, and her fingers had found their way to a guitar in a way no child of his could make seem so natural.

Victor looked confused, wounded...like he could not understand what he had done that was so very wrong. "Are they here too?" He asked.

Teddy shook his head. "They're at home, with their mother."

"Rayna James. She's very pretty," Victor said, an intended compliment but it just made Teddy more inclined to scream out loud. "And you're a Mayor. I-I knew you'd do great things with Politics."

His father was offering his approval, and it should have been wonderful- except it was coming fourteen years too late.

"Yeah." Teddy looked down at the space between him and the man he had forever been torn between admiring and resenting. He couldn't cross the emptiness, couldn't put aside his insecurities and the irrevocable damage that had long ago been done, not even to make this the reunion Victor- and Danny- thought it should be.

"Thank you for-for coming back." Victor looked away. "After yesterday...I wasn't so sure you would."

"I didn't want to," Teddy found himself admitting. "But I didn't really know how to avoid this much longer."

"There are things I want you to know," Victor said, looking back at him with eyes dripping of apology. "I want to explain."

An explanation was, in theory, all Teddy really wanted to achieve from this visit. So many questions had plagued him over the years:  _what did I do wrong? Why was I never good enough? What kind of father could do what Victor had done to his son?_

None of these questions would have a significant impact on Teddy's life; on his family or his job or his future- but they mattered to the person he used to be, angry and hurting Martin who hadn't been laid to rest because he'd been too present bitterly lingering in his mind.

"You feel like I left you...Martin, that was never my intention."

Didn't really appreciate being told how he felt, but it was true enough, so he didn't argue.

"All I wanted was for you to be safe, to have a chance to start over. You deserved a fresh start, after all that you'd been through."

Teddy didn't want to talk about that- not with Victor, not with Danny. Not now, not ever. The return of the nightmares last night was enough to leave him feeling like he had lost control of the situation, and that was something that still terrified him.

"I-I never dreamed you'd stay away for so long," Victor concluded.

Something inside Teddy snapped. "I thought  _you_ wanted me to."

Victor looked up, stricken expression, as Teddy got to his feet. "Oh, Martin, why would I-"

"Because I was a failure! Because I was never what you wanted! Because I was weak and a mess and a disgrace to you!" These words were pouring out of him, accusing yet honest. Years of repression ebbing out of him, bit by bit.

"Don't ever say that," Victor said, his tone forceful. "Martin, why would you think that? You're my son- whatever mistakes I made were mine, and mine alone." An excuse, a terrible excuse and that did not undo the years of hurt and confusion and  _why doesn't my Dad love me_?

"But they weren't just 'your mistakes.' They stopped being  _your_ mistakes the second they started to change the way I thought and felt."

Danny chose that moment to push the door open with his hip, attempting to balance two polystyrene cups in either hand. "Did I hear shouting?" he asked, looking suspiciously from Teddy to Victor and then right back again.

Teddy looked down at the floor. "I think we should go, now," he said quietly.

Danny held his coffee out for him to take and then sat down, cross-legged, on the bottom of the bed- like he belonged there.

Teddy decided maybe he did.

"I think we should stay," he argued, raising an eyebrow, daring Teddy to challenge him.

Victor cleared his throat. "Martin's right. You ought to be getting home- I'm sure your children are wondering where you've gotten to."

Danny looked sceptical. "They understand," he said, although Teddy wasn't sure this was really the truth.

"I'm tired, Danny," Victor insisted. "I appreciate you both coming, but I'd like to be by myself for now." Voice wavering and hitching but Teddy told himself it was a pathetic act, an attempt to guilt him.

Regretfully, he had to acknowledge it was indeed working.

Danny looked like he wanted to object, was shooting Teddy a pleading look, but disrespecting the wishes of a dying man was not something he was keen to do, so he relented.

"If you're sure…" Danny began, tone suggesting he thought Victor was anything  _but_ sure.

The older man offered him a small smile. "There's nothing wrong with my mind," he assured them.

Teddy didn't need to be asked to leave a third time, and so he tossed his half-gulped coffee in the bin and took Danny by the wrist, leading him out of the room after they had all muttered half-hearted goodbyes.

* * *

They took separate cars back to the city.

It made sense- logically he knew it wasn't a good idea to leave his rental car parked at the hospital in favour of an hour drive with Danny. It was downright ridiculous, but Teddy found himself mourning the loss of precious time together- especially considering he didn't know how many drives to and from the hospital they would have left to make.

It was dark by the time they got back to Manhattan and Danny decided to stop and pick up some food, so Teddy got back to the apartment first.

All hell was breaking loose when he walked through the door.

"Leave me alone!" Caleb howled, slamming something shut. "All any of you ever do is lie!"

Sofie met Teddy in the hallway as he was slipped off his coat. Her eyes were red from crying. "Where's Dad?" She asked, and when Teddy told her Danny had stopped to get Thai, she burst into tears.

"Caleb's so angry at me," she cried, and before Teddy could even offer, she was in his arms, her head buried in his shoulder, like she was seven years old again and her kitten had just been run over. "I didn't mean to upset him!"

After a few moments of incoherent sobs, Teddy managed to detangle himself from Sofie. He took her into the kitchen and poured her a glass of water, and then he sat beside her at the same table they had sat at together that morning.

"What happened?" he asked, once she had calmed down and dried her eyes on her sleeves.

"I told him that I'm moving," Sofie said, her eyes wide and unblinking. "I thought Dad had already spoken to him about it, but I guess he hadn't, because Caleb freaked out."

Oh.  _Right_. She was going to Spain with her mother.

"Caleb's going to miss you," Teddy presumed. "It's only natural that he's upset."

Sofie bit her lip. "He said something about how we're all leaving him, that he thought I was different. I know he'll be alright without me- I mean, I'm twenty-one, did he really think I was going to live here forever? I just didn't expect him to hate me for it."

"He doesn't hate you." He shook his head, thinking about Daphne's tortured voice on the phone when she begged him to come back for her. "He just...doesn't want his family to fall apart."

"That would never happen! I don't care what country I live in- we're still a family, and I'd still fly home in a heartbeat he needed me to." Sofie looked up. "Will you talk to him for me?  _Please_?"

"Uh," Teddy said, immediately uncomfortable. "Gee, Sofie-I don't know. Your dad'll be home soon anyway…"

"I can't just leave him sulking in his room until then! You don't know what Caleb's like. When he's left to his own devices, his imagination runs riot- I'll bet he's planning to run off, like he always does."

He ought to tell her no- that there were too many reasons why he shouldn't get involved. But Sofie was staring at him with the same big brown eyes she'd used to sweet-talk him when she was younger, the eyes whose invitation to Thanksgiving dinner or a school play he could never refuse.

And what if Teddy  _didn't_ do anything about it and Caleb  _did_ run off, like Sofie suggested, and something happened to him? Besides all of that, Teddy could identify all too well with somebody who felt abandoned, especially after the day he had had.

Relenting with a sigh, Teddy got up from the table and headed down the hallway. He didn't stop until he came to a door that had a sign on it reading, ' _Caleb's Room- Knock First.'_ Teddy did as instructed, but he was met with silence.

"Caleb?" He asked, after knocking a second time. "It's me- Teddy. Are you okay?"

A rustling of something inside, a brief sound of something being dragged, and then the door was opening. Caleb stood in front of him, looking far worse for wear than his sister in the tears department. They blinked at each other for a long moment before Caleb spoke.

"What do you want?" Sour and not-at-all the angel Danny clearly saw him as, but wasn't this true of every teenager? Didn't most parents see their child with rose-tinted glasses? Not even the perceptive Danny Taylor was immune from the blindness attached to love, it seemed- especially if the tiny spot of blood seeping through Caleb's shirt somewhere above his elbow was any indication.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Teddy tried; offering up what he hoped was a friendly smile, an olive branch. He made a point of not looking at the blood specks- afraid acknowledging it would send the boy into a greater panic- trying to imagine instead what Caleb had used to cut himself. A razor? A knife? A paperclip? He made a mental note to talk to Danny about it. "Your sister...she's worried about you."

Caleb just glared. "Leave me alone." He made a move to shut the door, but Teddy wedged his foot in before he could.

"I know you probably think it's weird, me showing up and staying with you guys without much notice- especially if you don't know anything about me," Teddy admitted. "But I care about your father, and that means I care about you and Sofie too. If you're upset, you don't have to be on your own." This time, with a deep breath, Teddy glanced at the area on Caleb's sleeve where he figured the cut would be. "There are better ways of dealing with how you feel," he said, gently.

Caleb's eyes grew a little wider, and for a splinter of a second Teddy thought he had gotten through- he even pulled his foot away, certain he no longer needed to intrude, supposing maybe he had actually gained a foothold with this kid...but then the boy scowled. "We were doing just fine before you came along," he hissed. "Why don't you just leave us alone?"

He slammed the door in his face and just then Teddy heard the main door open.

"I'm home!" Danny called. "And I have food!"

Sofie came out of the kitchen, still sniffing, and the moment Danny saw her he rested the bags on the ground. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

After offering a brief overview of the situation, she pulled back from Danny and turned to Teddy. "What did he say to you?"

Teddy opened his mouth to speak, but Danny interrupted. "Wait, why did you go talk to him?" He asked, immediately agitated and seeking to blame anybody but his son. "I can handle it- you knew I wasn't going to be much longer."

"Uh-"

"-Dad, I asked him to," Sofie explained. "He wouldn't talk to me. I thought maybe…"

"You thought  _what_?" Danny said, running a hand through his hair. "He's  _my_ son. I'll talk to him." He glanced at Teddy. "Not anybody else."

Teddy's stomach flipped- he really hadn't meant to stand on Danny's toes by trying with Caleb, but he also hadn't expected to be told so blatantly to go by the teenager either- not had he expected to uncover a secret as large as self-harm, self-destruction.

"Danny," Teddy began, reaching for Danny's arm as he passed him on his way to Caleb's room. He wanted to tell him about Caleb's potential cut (What if this wasn't the first time? Or, what if this wasn't the last?) but he was careful not to do so in front of Sofie- the last thing he wanted was her blaming herself.

But Danny shrugged him off, shooting him a look that had Teddy questioning if their earlier kiss had been a figment of his imagination, and made his way down the hall to Caleb's room.

 


	17. Some Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys don't mind my side-plot RE:Caleb. I really enjoy writing both Danny and Martin/Teddy as parents in general, so maybe that's why I'm revolving so much of Danny's life around his kids and Teddy similarly. I will address their relationship in the next chapter, at this point it's very Caleb-focused I'm afraid- but hey, the kids come first!
> 
> Enjoy! Sorry it doesn't have an awful lot to do with the overall plot. Next week I will try to be more on point! Thank you as always.

He was sincerely trying to explain, but Danny was having none of it.

"Listen," Danny cut in, half way through Teddy's well-prepared  _It's not your fault, but I really think your kid has problems_ speech, "I appreciate your concern. And maybe I did overreact a little. But just because you're dealing with a lot regarding your own kids, does not give you the right to psycho-analyse mine."

That wounded him more than he chose to let on.

"This is nothing to do with my daughters," he insisted defensively. "I'm just trying to help."

"Like I said: thanks, but no thanks."

A part of Teddy wanted to withhold the information, out of spite. But there was a much larger part, his conscience and his heart, he supposed, that wondered what awful extremities might occur if he didn't. What if next time, Caleb didn't stop at the simple sight of blood? What if next time, there was no one around to bang on his bedroom door, to interrupt him?

"I think Caleb hurt himself tonight." Blurted out, too loud and nowhere near as gentle as he had planned.

Danny- who stood by the sink, his fists already clenched- whipped round so quickly Teddy was sure he must have some form of whiplash.

" _What_?"

Teddy cleared his throat. "I don't know for sure. I just-he took a while to come to the door; it sounded like he was hiding something; there was blood on his shirt."

Danny folded his arms. "I didn't notice anything," he said, but Teddy noticed the shake in his voice.

"Probably because you didn't want to," Teddy said, and he hadn't realised how condescending that sounded until it was out there.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "Caleb would never do that."

"That's exactly what he wants you to think, I'll bet." He felt like a bratty little kid in the third grade, telling tales to the teacher, but in that moment Teddy didn't really care if Caleb would never forgive him, would hate him: he just cared that, by telling Danny, he was helping to ensure Caleb would have the rest of his life to do so.

Teddy knew what it felt like to drive yourself out on a ledge just to see if somebody would follow, and regardless of what Caleb would no doubt insist, he was certain this was a cry for help that shouldn't be ignored.

"I think I know my own son," Danny snapped, agitated now, but Teddy did not miss the glances Danny continued to steal in the direction of Caleb's bedroom. He wanted Teddy to be wrong, but he clearly loved his son too much to take the risk that he wasn't.

"Ask him," Teddy suggested, sure that when faced with the prospect of lying to his father's face, Caleb would surely relent and tell the truth.

Despite the fact that was something Teddy, even at forty years old, could not yet manage.

He expected Danny to head down the hallway to the privacy of Caleb's bedroom, but instead he called the boy into the kitchen. The reasons for this pulsed in time with Teddy's heartbeat: maybe this meant he wanted him here; maybe this meant he trusted him; maybe this meant there was room in this family for him, after all, even if he wasn't so sure there was enough room in his own anymore.

After being called a second time, Caleb slouched into the kitchen- having changed out of the shirt he was wearing not twenty minutes before, the one that was blood-stained.

Teddy didn't know if he had changed before or after Danny had gone to his room to talk to him. If Danny noticed the change, he didn't act like he did.

"Can you sit down, buddy?" Danny asked gently, sitting down himself at the table.

He didn't look at Teddy, but Caleb did. A dark look that had:  _what have you done_ written all over it.

Caleb sniffed and inched closer to his father. "I'll say sorry to Sofie if you want."

Danny offered up a weak smile. "I would appreciate that. But we should apologise to you, first. I meant to tell you about her moving, but it hasn't been easy...I've been waiting for the right time. I should never have kept it from you- we're a family, and families aren't supposed to hide things from each other."

"Right," Caleb agreed, but he never took his eyes off Teddy- the biggest lie in the world to him, obviously.

Still, Caleb remained standing. So he could make a quick escape if he needed to? So he wouldn't have to meet his father's eyes?

Reading Teddy's mind, Danny looked up. "Caleb, sit down." He motioned to the chair beside him and this time, Caleb slipped into it with more than a chip of reluctance on his shoulder.

"Am I in trouble?"

Danny shook his head, and Teddy could tell from standing a few feet away that this was killing him. "No, Caleb. You're not in trouble. But I do want you to be honest with me, okay?"

Caleb looked from Teddy to his father and then nodded. He didn't speak.

Danny cleared his throat, delicately tilted his head to the side. "I just want you to know that whatever is going on with you, you can tell me; I just want you to know that I love you, I always will, and I will do whatever it takes to help you."

Suspiciously, Caleb had ducked his head. "I know," he mumbled.

Teddy watched Danny take a deep breath, could sense the tension in his body waiting to erupt. "Earlier, when Teddy came to your bedroom door to check if you were okay...well, he thinks you might have been doing something. Something to hurt yourself."

Teddy held his breath, waiting for the tearful confession. Danny moved closer, ready for the teenager to fall into his arms like a child. Caleb snapped his head up, indignant and defensive.

"He's lying!" Caleb growled. "He's lying to you!"

Danny looked at Teddy, who was having serious trouble processing.

Caleb was actually going to  _deny_ it?

"I saw the blood on your shirt," Teddy said as evenly as he could manage. "Caleb, you've  _changed_ your shirt. You wouldn't have done that if you hadn't had a reason."

Danny placed his hand on top of Caleb's- both of them were shaking, and Teddy looked away because it was a moment of tender intimacy between a father and his child that he was not a part of, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he could still be some part of Danny's life.

"Caleb," Danny said so softly, a tone Teddy had never heard him use before. "I don't know what to believe. That's why I'm asking you- because I trust you to tell me the truth." He hesitated, no doubt trying to conjure the words. "If you tell me it's true, I promise I will do my very best to help you; it won't make me love you any less; it won't make me any less proud of you. And if you tell me it isn't true...well, then I'll believe you."

Caleb didn't even take the words in. "It's not true!" he insisted, but there were tears in his eyes that shouldn't have been there.

Danny avoided Caleb's eye and that was all it took to ignite the boy.

"You don't believe me! You liar! You believe him over me!" He made a move to get up, but Danny shook his head and pulled him back down.

"Please, Caleb, don't walk away from this," he pleaded, and Caleb's cheeks were shiny with tears that had Teddy almost wishing he'd kept his damn mouth shut.

"Can't you see what he's doing? He's trying to come between us! He's telling you lies about me so you'll get rid of me!" He was hysterical by this point, inconsolable and completely ignoring the fact that Teddy was even in the room- maybe that made it easier for him to lie so blatantly.

"That's not true," Teddy interrupted when Danny made no attempt to defend him. "Caleb, it doesn't need to be this difficult. Just be honest with your father-"

"-why don't  _you_ just be honest? Why don't you honestly say why you're here…to ruin everything because if  _you_ can't be happy you don't want anybody else to be, either!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I have been nothing but nice to you. The only reason I even mentioned this was because I care-"

"-yeah, sure, you're care about my  _Dad_ -"

"-that's  _enough,"_ Danny broke in, rubbing his face with his hands. "Stop it. Both of you."

There was silence for a long moment, and then Teddy had an idea.

"Just lift up his sleeve," he suggested. "I guarantee there's a mark."

Caleb flinched, even though Danny had made no move at all.

"You never actually saw anything, did you?" Danny prompted, but he was staring at a wide-eyed Caleb.

"Well- no. I saw blood though. Just roll his sleeves up, take his shirt off even. I bet-"

Danny blinked. "Caleb? Will you show me your arms?"

Caleb looked away, uncomfortable. "Please don't touch me," he whispered, small and innocent and Teddy knew Caleb had won Danny over right in that moment.

" _Obviously_  he won't show you himself…" Normally, Teddy would never suggest something like this, but if Caleb really didn't have anything to hide, he wouldn't have a problem with it.

For God's sake, it wasn't like he had asked him to strip naked for a full inspection. What was the big deal? If it would prove Teddy wrong, why wouldn't Caleb agree to it?

If it would answer his questions, why wouldn't Danny just roll the kid's damn shirt sleeve up?

He held his breath again as Danny reached for Caleb. Caleb shut his eyes tight, like he was awaiting execution. Danny surprised them both by placing both arms firmly on Caleb's shoulder.

"I would never do anything like that that you didn't want me to," he said quietly, and when Caleb opened his eyes, his dark eyelashes were spiked with tears. Danny took another deep breath. "If you tell me you aren't hurting yourself, then I believe you."

Teddy's mouth fell open; he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Was this seriously happening? The kid had as good as admitted it by refusing to lift his sleeve a few inches- in what world did this speak of innocence in Danny's eyes?

Caleb darted down the hall the second Danny took a step back, and Teddy was torn between yelling at him to come back and be honest and shaking Danny for being so stupid.

"You can't  _seriously_ believe him?"

Danny flopped back into his chair, buried his head in his hands. "I don't know  _what_ I believe right now. All I know is that I wasn't about to be somebody else in his life who showed complete disregard for his privacy, for his dignity."

"He's a teenager!"

"Which is exactly why all of this is so sensitive. Listen, you don't understand- and whatever, that's good, I hope you never have to. But Caleb's been through a lot, and although it might not be a big deal to you, there were a shitty sixty seconds there when he was staring at me the way I saw him stare at the last bastards who tried to ruin his life by touching him when he didn't want them to."

It was pretty self-explanatory, but Teddy still found himself confused. It wasn't necessarily because Caleb had been abused before he'd found a home with Danny- he had kind of sensed that might be the case, considering the way Danny mollycoddled him- but the fact it was obviously something that still haunted Caleb, still had Danny drawing invisible lines of 'appropriate' and 'inappropriate' ways to treat his own kid….well, it left him questioning if the real reason Caleb had such a problem with him was just plain suspicion, if every man who crossed their threshold was met with the same hostility, if the fact he and Danny were two  _guys_ was the real thing that made the teenager uncomfortable- not in a homophobic way, but simply because in his experience, relationships like this had been intrusive, invading.

"You know that I'm telling the truth about the blood, don't you?"

"I don't know, Martin. Okay? I just don't know."

He called him Martin.

Teddy laughed out loud, and it startled Danny, but he didn't care. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, and he couldn't blame him really, not when he was still adjusting. All the same, it felt like a betrayal, a disappointment: he had naively allowed himself to build his hopes high, thinking that Danny might actually see him as somebody different than who he wanted him to be; that Danny might actually respect  _him_  the way he respected everybody else; that Danny might actually like him for who he was now, not the man he could have been.

He had been so sure that Danny knew the distinction; that Danny cared enough to recognise he had changed and that Teddy was just as valuable, just as important, just as capable and deserving of his love as he thought Martin had been.

After fourteen years of moulding himself into the person he needed to become, after pouring blood and sweat and tears and time into this new identity that could be everything to everyone, he had never expected it to feel so wasted, to feel like it had been thrown away so carelessly- simply in the space of one single sentence.

He felt like a lie; there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he recognised as his new life shrinking away in shame. Who had he been kidding? Nothing had changed. His new life mattered as little as his relationship with Danny, as his relationship with his parents, as his relationship with Rayna.

They were all lies, based on false-convictions and shortcomings. At the end of the day, Teddy had to accept that there were some things time could not change.


	18. Beginnings of Goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late purely because wrapping Christmas presents took priority yesterday. I hope you guys like this chapter- - I do! I think I explore a lot of things I wanted to explore here. Next chapter will be Danny's POV to sort out some of the Caleb stuff, so as you can imagine...enjoy the happiness while it lasts at the end of this one! Thanks for support, comments and patience. As I begin to plan the ending of this fic and the chapters ahead, I only hope I don't let anybody down. Have a lovely pre-Christmas week everybody!

He had no idea where Danny slept that night- only that he hadn't slept in bed…with him. What had Teddy expecting any different, well he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was the kiss, the slip-up with the name. He fully expected Danny to realise his mistake and slide into bed beside him, mumbling an apology in his ear.

Teddy was up early the next morning: he couldn't sleep, tossed and turned and struggled to fit into a bed that was too big for just him; he wanted to call the girls before they went to school.

Daphne had cheered up since the night before. Rayna had talked to her, probably. Maddie, on the other hand, sounded more confused than ever- racked with guilt for contacting Deacon one moment, and indignant it was her right the next.

Teddy came away from the call wondering when the next flight to Nashville was- contemplating if he was running  _away_ from Danny, from his father and his mother, or  _toward_ his daughters.

Danny was already in the kitchen when Teddy headed there for coffee.

"Morning," he murmured, a courtesy rather than anything else- because really there were a million things he would rather say than that hollow greeting.

Danny muttered a response, pretending to be suddenly engrossed in his newspaper that Teddy supposed must be days old by now.

"You, uh, want one?" Teddy forced himself to ask, motioning to the espresso maker that was already in action. He remembered afterward that this was  _Danny's_ kitchen; that he did not need to offer.

Still he was making an effort.

Danny cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, thanks."

"Did you talk to Caleb again last night?" Past the point of making polite conversation and really, Danny should have been prepared for this question.

"Listen, I know you're only trying to help. I appreciate it, really I do. But whatever you think you saw…" Danny trailed off, setting his newspaper to one side and turning to stare at Teddy like they had not kissed just the day before, like they were nothing more than casual acquaintances. "I believe Caleb," he said frankly.

It felt like a slap in the face, a betrayal. But, not only that, it felt like a complete and utter lie. Danny didn't believe Caleb- how  _could_ he, after everything? "Why are you lying to yourself? For God's sake Danny, being in denial about this will only make things worse. You practically admitted you thought he was lying last night-"

"Yeah, well, yesterday was a confusing day for everybody," Danny said, looking away. "Things change."

"As in, you regret kissing me?" He was trying unbelievably hard to sound like he wasn't breaking apart inside, but it wasn't working. "You  _can_  say it- I think I can handle the rejection, Danny."

"Not everything is about you," Danny sighed, but there was definite hesitance in his voice. He wanted to say more, explain, maybe, but he couldn't find the words.

"But you believe him over me?" Cruel of him, yet Teddy couldn't help himself. That was what it boiled down to, after all.

"Stop making this a choice."

Teddy wanted to point out that it had been  _Caleb_ who had turned this into a battle- that it had been Caleb who made him Public Enemy Number One the second he walked through the door...for whatever reason, it was Caleb who wanted Danny to choose, not Teddy.

Perhaps because they both knew what Danny's choice would be.

He must have said some variation of this last part out loud, because Danny was shaking his head in exasperation.

"This is exactly  _why_  this can't work. Don't you understand?" Danny demanded.

Teddy raised an eyebrow. "Because your kid hates me?"

"Because you're as much of a kid as he is!" Danny buried his head in his hands. "You're both as stubborn, resentful and evasive as each other. Caleb's fourteen- what's your excuse?"

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Oh yeah? So you and your father made up yesterday, then?"

Teddy went perfectly still. "This has nothing to do with my father."

"If it weren't for your father, you would still be in Nashville pretending I don't exist. If it weren't for your father, you would still be waiting for somebody to force you into growing up," Danny snapped. "If it weren't for your father, you wouldn't have kissed me."

" _You_ kissed  _me,"_ Teddy corrected, then after a pause, he asked, "Do you want me to stay at a hotel? Is that it?"

Danny shook his head. "Of course not. But just because I kissed you-or you kissed me, or -whatever the hell happened yesterday, you don't automatically gain the right to tell me what to think; you don't get to yell at my son like you tried to last night. Whatever is going on with Caleb is none of your business- I've handled this for nine years on my own, and I can handle it now."

"Well excuse me for  _caring,_ " Teddy replied, bitterly, downing his cup. "I'm sorry for thinking that any of this," motioned a hand between them in demonstration, "might actually mean anything to you." He looked up, only to meet Danny's eyes. "I'm sorry for thinking that it wasn't too late."

He didn't wait for Danny to reply or call him back. He grabbed his coat- about the only thing he was wearing that was his, because he was still borrowing Danny's clothes- and stormed out of the apartment.

* * *

His mother was hysterical when he arrived.

"I can't find him!" She howled. "Why isn't anybody helping? Why isn't anybody doing anything?"

He exchanged glances with Clare, who was shaking her head. "Martha, darling, he's here." She waved a hand in front of Teddy, but his mother did not look up.

"What if something awful has happened to him? What if he's been hurt?"

"Mom, Mom," he repeated, sitting down beside her on her bed. She was in her nightgown, even though it was nearly 12:30pm by now, and her hair was hanging loose around her face while she clutched something small in her hand. "Mom, it's alright." He rubbed his hand gently down her arm, a reassurance, but she pulled away.

"I want Martin!" She cried.

"What does she have in her hand?" Teddy asked, only just managing to find his voice around the lump in his throat.

Clare shrugged. "Damned if I know," she sighed. "Martha? Do you want something to eat? How about I make you a nice cup of tea, huh?"

She slipped out of the room, and Teddy took this as his cue. While Martha was busy crying, he eased her right hand open to see a tiny band of plastic- a hospital baby bracelet, reading:  _Baby (Boy) Fitzgerald._ Alongside this, in blue ink, was the date of his birth.

There were tears on his cheeks before he could stop them. "Oh, Mom," he murmured, stroking his hand to her grey ringlets. "I'm sorry."

"Where is he?" She was wide-eyed, confused, desperate. All Teddy wanted to do was to explain, but there was nothing he could say that she would understand. Just yesterday she had known he was married to Rayna- today, she had no idea. "Is it my fault?" She asked.

That last question had him reaching for her hand. "Mom," he whispered. "I should have said goodbye."

"Where's Martin? I want to see Martin!"

Finally, he broke apart. Taking her in his arms, he let go. "I'm here," he relented. "I left, but I'm here now. And-and I love you."

She gave up struggling- too frail to continue, and fell against him instead. He held her for what seemed like forever, stopped only when the phone in his pocket began to vibrate.

He inched away from her, and she got to her feet, wiping her eyes and continuing to search the room for the son she was still convinced was lost. He glanced at the caller ID- Danny, and he wanted to ignore it, but there was something inside his mind that told him it wasn't a good idea.

"Where are you?" Danny demanded, not even gracing him with a ' _hello_.'

"I'm with my Mom," he explained, "why?"

Danny took a deep breath, and Teddy braced himself for the apology that didn't come. "Bring her to the hospital," Danny said. "As soon as possible. Your dad's doctor called."

It was pretty significant that by now, it did not bother him at all that Danny was the first person Dr Bethel contacted when something was wrong with Victor. Why had Teddy expected any different? He had said as much to Rayna the night before when talking to Deacon: it took more than DNA to be a father- it was only right that in turn, it took more than biology to be a son. "Is he-" wasn't sure what should come next, so he waited for Danny to fill in the blanks.

"Not yet. But he's only getting worse. It's best your Mom says goodbye now- rather than later."

Teddy looked across the room. She was staring out the window, reaching out to touch birds on the other side of the glass, still clutching a forty-year old piece of plastic in her hands like it was blessed. "I'm not so sure she's really able to comprehend a goodbye."

Danny was quiet for a moment, and Teddy cursed his choice of words. He could practically  _hear_ Danny's thoughts:  _neither could I, but that doesn't mean I didn't deserve one._ "Just because she can't make that choice doesn't give us the right to." Directed at him, and he knew it. "Besides, your father will want to see her before…"

He didn't finish this sentence either. Funny how they were both so fond of skating around the truth, around the inevitable, around the finality that the notion of death brought.

"I'll bring her," he agreed, after a moment of half-hearted deliberation.

"I'll meet you there," Danny offered.

"You don't have to do that- you have work." He didn't want to face Danny again, but he didn't want to be alone with his parents...wasn't this becoming a pattern?

"This is more important," Danny said, leaving no room for argument. "I'm already halfway there. I'll talk to you then."

He hung up, not expecting a goodbye or a thanks, and that alone had Teddy wishing things were different. He once heard somebody in a movie say that the words you didn't need to say were more important than the words you did- it showed how well you knew each other, how intimate and genuine your connection must be. Danny did not owe him a single damn thing, yet he was throwing away a day at work to drive two hours- for moral support, or for the father that he'd taken care of for so long on Teddy's behalf. Did he want something in exchange? As far as Teddy could tell, all he wanted was for everybody around him to be happy- Teddy included- regardless of the sacrifice it took on his part.

Teddy had to remind himself that he wanted nothing from Danny, either: except maybe support when it came to his parents and their respective illnesses.

Strangely, it was getting harder and harder to believe that.

* * *

Danny was already there when they arrived.

He approached them, a soft smile of sympathy on his face when he saw Martha's rattled expression.

"Where am I?" she asked Teddy, for the third time in the last minute.

"You're at the hospital," Danny kindly said, taking the heat off of him this time. "But don't worry- everything's going to be fine."

Danny reached out, resting a hand on her arm, and she was too confused to push him away. Instead, she grabbed Teddy's own hand. Danny looked at him over the top of her head- they exchanged a glance, connected by her touch, both leading her toward the door to Victor's room.

The moment they'd stepped inside, she broke away from them both. She rushed to Victor's bedside, and Teddy cleared his throat awkwardly when Danny inched into the space she'd left between them.

"Victor?" She said softly, running her hand along the curves of his face, touching her lips to his dry forehead. "Victor."

Victor was barely conscious, barely alive, and if Teddy's mother could tell, she was doing a stellar job of pretending she couldn't. She sat on the bed, leaned forward, rested their heads together. Victor's hand came up to cup her face. They exchanged ' _I love you_ 's; Teddy doubted either of them even knew they were crying.

He had not witnessed them being this intimate- not since returning to New York, but not during his childhood, either. He had spent most of younger years assuming a loveless marriage was the only kind there was; as a teenager, he was certain they would divorce the second he moved out. When they hadn't, he'd guessed they stayed together simply to keep up appearances.

Now, he wondered if they'd always loved each other this much- if it was  _demonstrating_ it that they struggled with, or if his leaving had brought them closer together: if losing a child had had the impact on them that  _having_ one had on most couples; if they needed to lose a child, in order to figure out they didn't want to lose each other.

He would ask, but this moment was not his to interrupt. They might have been his parents in another life, but they had- and would be- each other's first and last loves forever.

Danny nudged him, motioning toward the door, and that was all it took for him to understand. While Martha and Victor whispered gently to each other, he slipped out of the room behind Danny.

"Wow, that was-" he was drying his own eyes, trying to conjure words, when Danny spun around and he realised he was not the only one broken by that scene.

Danny looked about ready to burst into tears himself, but that did not stop him from taking a step forward and placing a hand on each of Teddy's shoulders. It didn't stop him from roughly pushing their lips together, did not stop his hands from coming up to tug on the shirt that Teddy was wearing. It did not stop Danny from breaking away, pressing their foreheads together just like they had witnessed Victor and Martha do. It certainly did not stop Danny from breathing, "it's not too late," and then proceeding to capture Teddy's lips in another breathless kiss that had his entire body electrified.

Teddy's brain was working overtime, trying to string together coherent thoughts in order to figure out if he'd passed any storage closets on his way down the corridor- not at all how he envisioned his first time with Danny but it would do, anything would do-anything that would mean Danny's jeans would fit him comfortably again, anything that would settle the hardness in his pants.

Not that he wanted to take things further for simply practical reasons- he was curious as to just what else exactly the mouth that was tirelessly working his could do; he wanted to feel whole, to feel complete, for just once in his life; he had been waiting for this moment since he'd been introduced to Danny  _fucking_  Taylor.

The pun (barely a pun, but to his hazy mind it was good enough) had him smiling, which in turn had Danny smiling- he was overwhelmed with something he was too terrified to name in case it jinxed everything. There were children involved, two different states and demanding jobs but none of these things mattered half as much to him in that second as Danny's smile against his own did.

This was it. This was what his life had been missing. His life here, prior to leaving. His life in Nashville, in the marriage that he'd never quite fit into.

This kiss, this moment, this  _man_. He knew yesterday's kiss had been something, but this was special. This was admission, acceptance and so much more. It was all of the things neither one of them could say; the apologies they owed each other; the promise that it might indeed be the hardest thing either of them would ever half to do, but by God they would make this damn thing work.

A sound somewhere near, a vibrating noise that had Danny pulling back, fumbling in his pocket for his cell. Teddy's arms were around his neck- still- but he was too busy mourning the loss of contact to take them away. It didn't matter that they were in the middle of a hospital corridor; that his parents were a few feet away- just further evidence of the ways time had changed him. He was no longer a miserable twenty-six year old ashamed of his feelings for a friend and horrified by what his parents might think: he was now a man who had waited too long to go after what he wanted, who had just been reminded that you were never too old to get lost in a kiss, who could smell himself on his should-be-boyfriend's breath.

Danny had answered the call by now, but Teddy wasn't listening. He was focusing all of his concentration on resisting the urge to grab Danny hand and lead him down the hallway until they found somewhere vacant enough for them to really make up for all the time that they had spent not-kissing.

When Danny hung up, he detangled Teddy's arms from his neck. "I need to go," he said, panic acting as the perfect moment-wrecker. "That was Caleb's school. He skipped class."

"Does he do that often?" Teddy somehow managed to ask, but all he wanted to do was pout. It was wrong to resent a kid, especially one as messed up and in-need of love as Caleb, but it could just have easily have been a call from work that would pull Danny away from him: regardless of who or what had broken them apart this time, he couldn't be okay with it—not now he knew what he was missing.

Danny didn't seem to know how to answer his question. "He runs off, sometimes. It's probably nothing." He didn't sound so sure, but Teddy knew better than to press.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Danny shook his head. "Stay here with your Mom and Dad. I'll call you when I find him." He hesitated, for just a second, torn between wanting to kiss again and knowing they would not have the willpower to stop this time. Danny chose to settle for a quick squeeze of Teddy's hand.

He had disappeared down the hallway before Teddy could even say goodbye.


	19. Caleb being honest...finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, I just desperately wanted to do this justice. It was very important to me that I do this from Danny's POV in a way that doesn't get overloaded with a 'parent's' perspective so that Caleb is still understandable. Lack of Teddy here, but he'll be featured heavily in the next few chapters so I'm sure you can forgive me.
> 
> Also: I hope you had a lovely and safe holiday, that wherever you are the weather isn't too bad (don't even mention power-cuts to me haha) and that you have a great new year too.

It was not for lack of trying that Danny couldn't find him.

He searched all of Caleb's usual hiding places- the park, the nearest church, the stairs along the side of their apartment building. He even tried places he knew Caleb would never go- a local skate park, a crowded shopping mall, the bus depot.

It was sometime around this point that he felt his stomach flip. Every time Caleb ran off it set his entire body and mind into a panic…but this was different. This time, Danny had reason to believe Caleb was a danger to himself; this time, Danny, the fucking special agent who found missing people for a living, had tried everywhere but couldn't even find his own son.

His next stop was going to be every freaking hospital within driving distance, but then the weather took a turn. What if Caleb was out there, cold and wet and alone? What if he was waiting for him? What if he was in trouble?

What if he  _wasn't?_ Danny pictured his son lying in a ditch somewhere, even though he had no idea where the nearest ditch was.

He didn't want to go home, didn't want to stop looking, but he couldn't get a reception on his cell driving in the wind and rain. If he could talk to Caleb, if he could even leave him a message, if he could make him understand that Teddy being here did not and would never change a thing between them—well, maybe he could get through to the troubled teen.

Of course, the apartment ought to have been the first place Danny checked, but he had overlooked it, certain Caleb would never be so careless in his hiding: his son was more creative than to ditch school and head straight home.

He was wrong again, it seemed, because when he slipped into the kitchen- holding his phone at bizarre angles, desperate for a signal- he almost choked when he saw Caleb sitting at the table.

"Caleb?"

His son did not look up, flinching only at the sound of his name, and within seconds Danny was beside him, phone dropped to the floor, forgotten in the relief of ' _he's alright, he's safe and he's alright.'_

Relief quickly turned to reality. "Where the  _hell_  have you been? You can't just walk out of school."

Caleb grunted something that Danny was too distracted to understand, but what he could detect was a slur in his words, the muskiness of his breath.

Caleb had been… _drinking_?

Something inside of Danny snapped. A model father to the boy for the last ten years, he now found himself shaking his son, a hand on each of his shoulders like he had last night, except that this time, he was frantic and furious.

"Where did you get the alcohol?"

Caleb was too dazed from the drinking, or too shocked by his father's outburst, to move, to pull away, to even answer.

"Caleb! I'm not going to ask you again."

"It doesn't matter!" the boy yelled back, and now that Danny could see his face he saw too many emotions he could identify with that he never wanted a child of his to have to feel. "None of this fucking matters anyway. It doesn't matter to me and it shouldn't matter to you anymore."

 _Anymore_?

Danny realised what he was doing, recognised being a fourteen year old who felt like alcohol must be the solution, because talking it out only made things worse.

"Caleb, of course it matters. How did you get home? You should have called me- I would have picked you up."  _I would have rathered you were safe than sober,_ Danny thought.

Caleb shouldn't have been drinking. He was too young, already vulnerable- it was dangerous, not to mention his judgement was questionable without alcohol. But Danny had spent the last hour thinking of the more horrible succession of ways his son may have been hurt: a car accident, an attack on the streets, a choice that he no longer wanted to live in this world.

None of this made Caleb ditching school to get drunk any less of a cry for help, nor did it mean his actions were any less punishable- but it was the perspective Danny needed to step back, take a deep breath, and start over.

"How much did you have to drink?"

When Caleb didn't answer, Danny pressed again.

"I don't know. Less than half a bottle or whatever," he finally murmured, reluctant. "I told you, it doesn't  _matter_."

"A half bottle of  _what_?" Danny demanded, already thinking of the god-awful hangover Caleb would have in the morning. As nonchalant as Caleb might act about this, he still had the liver of a child.

Caleb licked his lips. "Whisky."

Of course, and he could smell it too, on his breath, recognise that particular poison all too well.

Sins of the father, and all that shit.

He was being irrational, blowing this out of proportion perhaps, but all he could think about was that he was not about to let Caleb- his smart, sweet Caleb who had so much potential- become a third generation alcoholic.

Danny wondered, briefly, if his father had been alive when he was Caleb's age would he have had the foresight to discourage  _his_  son from drinking, or if he would have been too blinded by his own addiction to see Danny through his.

There was nothing wrong with drinking in moderation, and just because Danny couldn't stop when he needed to did not been Caleb would follow the same path. After all, Caleb had never known his father to drink, had never had the influence in his life, a fact Danny was supremely grateful for.

He was not naïve enough to think that his children would never drink- he stopped having that kind of control over either of them a long time ago- but he hoped that when they did, they would be mature enough to make sensible decisions, even with the added impairment. It was the fact Caleb was so young, so emotionally immature, so vulnerable right now and so likely to have used alcohol to numb his feelings- just like Danny had- that was making this all so difficult to process.

"I'm not mad," Danny said evenly, although this was a lie. He was furious, but he knew admitting this would not fix anything.

"Why would you be?" Caleb asked sourly, eyes red and wide and wild. "I won't be your problem for much longer, will I?"

Was this suicidal talk? The drink getting to him? Or something else?

"What are you talking about?" Hoped his voice did not portray the panic he felt. He didn't know how to handle this- he wished, for one of the only times in his life as Caleb's father, that he was not a single parent. What he would give right now to have somebody else take over, to have somebody to think rationally and imperatively, to have somebody say the right thing so he wouldn't have to struggle.

Caleb was silent for a moment too long, and then he said slowly, "you can't take a foster kid out of the state."

True, in that legally, Caleb was still a ward of New York. But what it had to do with Caleb's drinking, Danny did not know. Was this why he had brought up the fact he hadn't been adopted?

But why did it  _matter_?

"Caleb, you're going to need to explain because I—"

"-if you go to Nashville, to be with him, you can't take me with you." Said frankly, and Caleb folded his arms, but there were tears glistening in his eyes. "So where does that leave me?"

"What?" So this was about Teddy, after all. "Who the hell said anything about going to Nashville?"

He wanted to assure Caleb that the thought had not crossed his mind, but it wouldn't exactly be the truth. He would never dream of leaving Caleb, had not considered choosing a life with Teddy over the life he currently had with his son- but that didn't mean he hadn't compiled a mental list of the ways he and Teddy could make things work between them.

Teddy would never move back here, of that he was fairly certain. Besides New York holding so many painful memories for him, he had a new life in Nashville, a job and children that were not made any less real by the fact that Danny still loved him.

Danny, who would rather end things with Teddy this second and never see him again than leave his son behind, couldn't ask the other man to abandon his own children either.

It wasn't simply Caleb keeping Danny here- he had work: Jack needed him more than ever now it was just the two of them and a bunch of rookies- he had watched the effect the others gradually leaving the team had had on his boss, and he was much too loyal to repeat the cycle. He had friends in this city, he had worked so hard to feel at home somewhere after leaving Florida in his teens. His life here was non-moveable, but he had to admit that Caleb was indeed the most important reason he would never leave.

There would be ways around it, he was sure. If he talked to Luisa, if he adopted Caleb, if he got a court order or the permission of Caleb's mother. It wasn't that he  _couldn't_  uproot Caleb and take him to Nashville where Danny would be closer to Teddy- it was that he  _wouldn't._

This was their home, this three bedroom apartment where Caleb had first heard the words 'I love you,' where Sofie had posed for her prom photos, where Danny had painted and papered the walls of his children's bedrooms time and time again depending on their changing favourite colours, their evolving tastes and interests.

It was the only home Caleb had ever known, Sofie's refuge from her mother during those difficult teenage years, his own escape when work and relationships had gotten too much for him to manage.

It was where he had shared so many laughs with his best friends, where he had cried himself to sleep those first awful nights when Martin was missing, where his brother had hugged him for the last time before going to jail and dying there.

New York had always been more than just a city to him. It was independence, it was freedom, it was the fresh start he'd needed at eighteen. Here, he had fallen in and out of love so many times, he had been given chances he didn't deserve, he had found his way into a family he adored. Leaving all of this behind would be like disregarding all that had happened here- it would be betraying the person he had become because of his experiences- experiences he would never have had anywhere else.

It wasn't just sentimentality keeping him here. It wasn't practical to go to Nashville jobless, to take his son out of school and across the country to a unfamiliar place. What savings he had were poured into a bank account for Caleb- for college, for a car when he could drive, for emergencies, for whatever.

What was he supposed to do? Expect Teddy to support them financially?

Teddy Conrad, who had changed his mind fifty fucking times already since he had been here? They might have kissed twice, but that was not a promise of forever, nor was it an assurance that, in a few hours, Teddy would not show up and tell him it was all a mistake.

Things weren't concrete enough between them for him to contemplate going  _anywhere_ together: hell, if it weren't for the fact Victor and Martha needed him, Danny would have suggested they live apart right now, if only because it confused the situation too much being so close when they didn't know how to navigate their feelings yet.

"Caleb, I'm not going to Nashville," he said. "Why would you think that?"

"I know how you feel about him," Caleb muttered, blushing slightly. "Sofie told me what it was like when he still lived here. She said you've always loved him."

Danny swallowed hard. Of course this was what it was, and always would be, to his daughter. "It's not that simple. And even if it was, Caleb I would never leave you."

"Maybe it would be better if you did," Caleb said, and when he turned to run out of the room, Danny followed him.

He grabbed his son's arm, and Caleb struggled against him, but Danny didn't let go.

Caleb wasn't an idiot- maybe Danny didn't give him enough credit. Last night, when he'd begged him not to touch him, he hadn't been afraid Danny would hurt him…he had been afraid of being caught.

While Caleb was busy tugging away, Danny did the one thing he hadn't wanted this to amount to: he reached over, pushed Caleb's double sleeves up as high as they would go.

He dropped Caleb's wrist, and then, not a second later, grabbed it again. There were tiny razor marks all the way up, a staircase of agony, a pattern of self-inflicted torture.

He wanted to be shocked, honestly he did- he wanted to be able to tell Teddy later that he had meant it when he said he believed Caleb. He wanted to feel betrayed, but instead, guilt caused his insides to swell.

Danny had told himself he said he believed Caleb because his son deserved the benefit of the doubt; to protect the teenager's privacy; to prevent him feeling like the entire world was pitted against him. But had that really been the reason? Or had he simply sided with his son because he wanted Teddy to feel the isolation he felt when he'd been left behind? Or because he wanted to assert the fact Teddy had lost all right to pass judgement on his life and the people in it the day he'd walked away?

Maybe he hadn't been purposely opposing Teddy, but that didn't mean he had appreciated it yesterday when he'd come home to find Caleb at war with everybody else in the apartment. He sided with Caleb because it was all he knew how to do, not necessarily because he believed him undoubtedly.

Now, as his son struggled to tug his sleeve back down, Danny wanted to punch his way through whatever walls the kid had put up and take him in his arms.

"Oh, Caleb," he said, and although he could have forced the boy into a hug, he knew Caleb needed to be the one to make the first move.

"It's not what it looks like," the boy said immediately, a half-hearted lie that fell on deaf ears.

Danny led him into the living room, sat him down on the sofa. He should have spent last night researching what to say to your kid in a situation like this, but he hadn't—had been too busy convincing himself they were  _not_ in this situation.

Didn't messed up kids do this? Kids who were into drugs and alcohol; kids who planned to bomb their schools; kids who hated the way they looked. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind, a thousand reasons this could not be true:  _but you get good grades,_ he wanted to remind Caleb;  _but you have a family; but I love you._

He knew he was being stereotypical- he was guilty of assuming his child was immune from this dark side to adolescence- but he couldn't get his head around the fact that a kid who was healthy, smart, as good-looking and as loved as Caleb most certainly was, would ever get to this point.

How long had it been going on? Did he feel like he couldn't tell Danny? Was it  _his_  fault, a failing as a father? Was it because of all those nights he worked late, Caleb's lack of a mother-figure, because Caleb had always had to share Danny's attention with Sofie?

He should have asked these questions, but when he opened his mouth to speak, only one word came out, " _Why_?"

Caleb crumpled right in front of him. In that moment, it no longer mattered that he was a fourteen year old with stubble on his chin and the hands of a man, he was back to being the little boy who crawled into Danny's bed on nights when it rained; he was the kid who ran to him with eyes-wide one autumn day in the park, clutching a stone in the shape of a heart- the one Danny still kept in his top drawer.

Danny dropped to his knees in front of his son. "You can tell me," he said softly. "I promise, I won't be mad."

He had said the same thing last night, more or less, but this time was different. This time, Teddy was not a foot away, watching them as they tried to understand each other. This time, Caleb was crying too hard to yell. This time, Danny was listening to what his son had to say, not just what he was ready to hear.

"It's  _everything_ ," Caleb burst out. "You don't understand." But he wanted to, and obviously Caleb could sense this, because within seconds pain was pouring out of him. "It just  _helps_ ; it just makes me feel better."

How bad was he feeling if  _this_ was the only cure he could find?

"It doesn't always hurt, not until after. Sometimes, I-I don't even realise what I'm doing until there's blood."

"How many times?" Danny forced himself to ask, but the whole time he was thinking  _what kind of parent doesn't notice something like this?_

Caleb shut his eyes tight. "I don't know."

"When did you start?" Danny rephrased, but his mind was reeling.

"A couple of months ago, maybe." The teenager looked down at his hands, his face rosy with shame. "I made up some lie about how I was going over to Kenny's to play video games, but I wasn't. I went to a party, instead."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Danny asked. He couldn't remember the night in question- there had been so many nights Caleb had used that excuse, and because Kenny was one of the only friends his son had, he had never questioned it; had never had the heart to stop him.

"It was…a house party, with alcohol and-and I knew you wouldn't let me go." Caleb shrugged. "You'd been held up at work anyway, so I just left you a note. It was easier to lie."

It seemed that last phrase summed up their relationship, contrary to what Danny had always told himself.

"It was at Steve's house- I only went because I thought I would look like a complete freak if I didn't," Caleb paused, like there was more to the story. "There's a girl I like, Katy. I-I thought she'd be there, and we could hang out. But when I got there she hadn't been able to make it."

Danny did not particularly like where this was going, but he nodded all the same, an encouragement for Caleb to continue.

"I was going to leave early, since I don't really like Steve or most of his friends. But then this older girl came over and we started flirting. I was really dumb, and we-we kindofdidsomestuff."

Danny's mouth almost fell open. Caleb?  _His_ Caleb?

"What  _kind_ of stuff?" Danny demanded, before realising this was supposed to be an open conversation, before remembering Caleb's honestly was not meant to be met with punishment, with judgement.

Luckily, Caleb was not put off by his momentary harshness. Rather, he seemed to expect it. He squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable to be discussing this with his parent, and it amazed Danny that after everything they were still capable of embarrassing each other.

"Just  _stuff,_ I don't know. Nothing special, nothing huge," Caleb assured him, but then he frowned. "I didn't like it- it didn't feel right, so I told her I was done. She wanted to go further, but I-I couldn't. I couldn't do that to you; to myself; to her."

Caleb- who had been molested as a tiny child, who had spent his first four years watching his mother snowball from one violent relationship to another, who had never even witnessed his father go out on a date- was sure to have reservations about intimacy, about the boundaries involved. He wasn't mature enough to differentiate his experiences with sexual trauma at a young age from the affection that was supposed to come from kissing and sex.

As awful as it was, Danny was thankful for this, for only a split second. If it meant his fourteen year old had not fucked some girl at a teenager's party he was right to be relieved.

"Caleb," Danny reached for his son's hand, but Caleb pulled it away, the only way he could get through what he was trying to say.

"I mean she was there, and she was really hot, and she was saying all the right things, but I just-I couldn't. I felt so sick and so dirty, I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted it all to  _stop_." The tears were coming fast and thick, his words were blurring together- alcohol and agony making things not make sense. "I felt like such a head-case. I mean, what kind of guy would turn that down? She was right  _there,_ but I just  _couldn't_."

At some point, Caleb had started rocking backwards and forwards, he was clutching his hands to his head, blocking out sounds Danny could not hear. Danny felt like his heart was being shredded- no parent should have to see their child in this much pain.

"Caleb, it's okay," he whispered, and now, there were tears in his eyes too, because he was watching the person he loved more than anything else in the world fall apart right in front of his eyes and there was not a single thing he could do about it.

"That was the first time," Caleb sobbed. "I just, I was so angry at myself. I wanted to punish myself for going, for kissing her, for not being brave enough to go the whole way. The second I saw blood I wished I hadn't done it-I never wanted to do it again, I swear. But then the next day, at school, I found out the girl was actually Steve's older sister. She goes to the high school, so I'd never met her. The second I left, she'd gone downstairs and told them that I had a complete breakdown and wouldn't sleep with her."

It had been a set-up, probably, the only reason Caleb had been invited in the first place, and Danny found himself wondering what the prison sentence for shooting a class of middle-schoolers with an FBI issued weapon was.

"I know you always say I should ignore people who are being jerks, but it was different this time." He looked up, eyes wide and unblinking and red. "This time, they were all threatening to tell Katy, and I actually  _cared_ about what she thought. This time, I realised they were right when they said there was something wrong with me."

 _There's nothing wrong with you,_ Danny wanted to say, but even he could not pretend this was the truth anymore. He loved his son, and he would go on loving him regardless, but that didn't mean that any of this was easy to digest.

"I went home and did it again, and this time, I didn't panic. It just felt like I was letting everything out." Caleb's hands were curled into fists, like he was fighting his own battle Danny could not comprehend. "I went on doing it when it all got too much… but then, it stopped making me feel better and started making me feel worse. I kept thinking of how crazy it was; how I'd made myself into the psycho they said I was." He ducked his head, mumbling, "I started thinking of how disappointed you'd be if you found out, and that just made me hate myself even more. You're the only person who ever loved me, the only one who ever gave me chance, and I'm not even strong enough to not let you down?"

"You couldn't let me down if you tried," Danny insisted fiercely.

Caleb was past the point of listening though; he was lost in the darkness he had repressed for too long. "I was scared that if I told you, you wouldn't know what to do, and you'd decide that it was more than you could deal with, or worse, that you'd blame yourself." They met each other's eyes for the first time in too long. "You wanted a cute little kid- you never signed up for this."

Danny wanted to tell him that he'd signed up to be his father through thick and thin; that he would rather die right now that give his son up; that love didn't have time-limits or conditions; that being a parent did not work that way.

When he couldn't conjure this into words, he held out his arms instead. Caleb slid off the chair, collapsed into them, like he was a five year-old battling nightmares again.

"Daddy." A strangled sob.

Danny could not remember the last time Caleb had called him that- he had been  _Danny_ and  _Dad_ but it must have been years since he'd been  _Daddy._

"Once I'd made myself stop- I promise I stopped, I  _really_  did- I was staying with Mom that weekend you were gone. Things were going okay, until I overheard her on the phone to someone. At first, I thought it was just another dumb boyfriend, but with the way she was acting, I realised it must have been one of the men—from before."

Something inside Danny's chest lurched. Was that why Caleb had ran away from his mother's house that day? Not simply that he didn't like her new choice of boyfriend, but because he'd come face-to-face with one of the men who'd hurt him?

"She had told him on the phone not to come over, and he didn't- but it got me thinking, you know? So I googled it, and one of those guys is out already." Caleb paused, like he was trying to put the injustice of it all into coherent sentences. "For God's sake, I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Another one will be eligible for parole before I even graduate high school. Was it because I couldn't testify? Was it because I wasn't hurt  _enough_?"

His tears were being soaked up by Danny's shirt, but that hardly mattered. They didn't talk about this; they did not discuss what those men had done to him, at least not in this many words. Danny had known one day Caleb would have questions, would want to know the details of the case that he had been too young and traumatised to understand at the time. It was why Danny had gone to every single court hearing of the men involved in the cult; it was why he taken a notebook and wrote down all the things that he knew he was too fuelled by rage to remember later.

He wanted to have the answers Caleb needed- he wanted them to be able to sit down one day and piece all of it together, so it could finally be put to rest, so that it wouldn't have a hold on Caleb's future.

He had envisioned this day being years from now, when Caleb was older and wiser and emotionally ready. He imagined having this conversation with somebody who was not shaking in his arms, someone who did not need a fresh pack of Band-Aids to cover up their scars.

But life did not work on the timescale he wanted it to: it never had. Someday soon- not today, because this was all dramatic enough as it was- Danny would dig out that old grey notebook from the back of his closet, he would speak to his teenage son about his options from here on in- about permanent restraining orders to replace the temporary one Danny had had to fight for two years ago without Caleb's knowledge.

"They got ten and twenty years. The first one served eight years, the other one probably won't even serve eighteen," Caleb muttered, sounding breathless, weak, small against Danny's chest. "I have the rest of my life to live with this. It's not  _fair._ "

Life  _wasn't_  fair, Danny had always known that, but seeing it through the eyes of his child was something else entirely. Caleb  _shouldn't_  have to live with demons he felt he had to cut himself to get away from, while the bastards who had inflicted his pain had such a long line of victims they probably hadn't given him a second thought in years.

But there were other ways to deal with this, even if Danny wasn't exactly sure what they were just yet.

"And then Teddy showed up, and all I could see was the way you looked at each other…I knew that if things had worked out with him you might never have fostered me, and then where would I be? I guess I didn't want anything else to come between us."

"I'd never let that happen," Danny assured him, but he knew Caleb wasn't convinced.

"I just figured that being with him would make you happier than being with me. Then he saw the blood on my shirt, and I, I just wanted to make him go away, because I was scared you really would go back to Nashville with him once you realised I-I can't be fixed." Caleb was nearing the end of this story, tripping over his words as he heard them spoken aloud. He buried his head in his hands, ashamed and embarrassed. "The guys at school told Katy about that stupid party today- they were all laughing, and she couldn't even  _look_ at me. I can't go back there…everything's just  _ruined_."

Caleb was a teenager, barely more than a child- he wasn't capable of seeing past the next weekend. He didn't have the foresight to understand that his life would not always feel this suffocating, did not understand that the memories that haunted him would someday begin to fade, could not imagine a time when he would not be the subject of sick school gossip.

Teddy's presence in their lives had magnified Caleb's insecurities within this family, and at fourteen years old, he wasn't mature enough to remember that two weeks ago, things between him and Danny had been fine, that neither of them could imagine a life without the other.

But Danny knew that you lacked perspective when you were young and feeling lost, and telling Caleb that his fears were futile, that his life  _would_  get better; that there would be  _other_  Katy's; that one day he would be brilliant and successful and  _happy_ and look back at this moment and time with only a hazy memory of a painful adolescence, would not get him there overnight.

"Listen to me," Danny distanced himself, if only so he was eye-to-eye with his son. "Nothing could ever make me leave you. Nothing and nobody. I'm your father, and that trumps  _everything._ Which is how I know that we  _will_ fix this, together."

He thought Caleb would protest, that all of the anger he'd felt earlier would come gushing out again, but instead he wiped his tears away with a shaky hand. "But you love him," he said meekly, because to Caleb, that was reason enough for abandonment.

"I don't know- maybe I do," he admitted, weak scepticism because every time he looked at Teddy he felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs (but in a good way, the kind that left him dizzy and reeling and desperately longing to feel the rush again) "but I love you, too, and just because I like having him around doesn't mean I want to be your father any less."

He understood completely why Caleb- who had watched his mother choose her boyfriends over him time and time again until he'd eventually given up throwing himself against that particular brick wall- might need this proven before he could fully believe it, but Danny didn't mind, not when he really meant it.

There was silence for a long moment, and then Caleb looked up at him, almost pouting. "Does this mean I have to apologise to him?"

"Absolutely," Danny agreed, nodding, and Caleb groaned. "But first, you need to sleep off the whisky."

Caleb made a move to get up, but Danny found himself clutching the boy's hand. "I think you should just lie down here, on the couch or something. For now."

 _Where I can keep an eye on you,_ he wanted to add, but he knew he didn't need to, because Caleb was frowning like he'd heard it anyway.

"Dad."

"Just for now, until we can figure this thing out," Danny said, forcing a small smile that he hoped was more reassuring than false.

What he really wanted to do was raid Caleb's room for anything his son could use to potentially harm himself again, but he knew better. He would go through the room with Caleb later, when there was not whisky on his breath and they were not both freshly drained of all energy from this emotional whirlwind of a conversation.

He dug a blanket from the back of the linen closet, wrapping it around Caleb, who had curled up on the couch and was mumbling apologises that Danny assured him were not needed.

Danny stayed with him until his eyes drifted shut and his lips pursed together, until his breathing evened and he knew Caleb was really sleeping. Gently, he rolled the boy onto his side- just in case the hangover kicked in early.

He should get up, do something productive like call a doctor or the school counsellor or somebody much more qualified than he was to tell him what their next move should be, but it occurred to him that he'd be just as clueless in an hour's time and that staying these extra few moment watching his son sleep- at peace, for the first time in God knows how long- was far more important.


	20. Parenting concerns and handholding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and ending pretty abruptly but I'm thinking of all the P&P I need to write tonight/tomorrow so I'm sure you understand! Thanks for reading and reviewing, as usual I always say next week I will upload on Saturday but this time I (hopefully) mean it- coming up to the holidays was hectic, I'm trying very hard to get things back on track now.

The door opened and closed, Teddy making use of the spare key Danny had given him earlier. "Anybody home?" he called, exasperation evident in his voice, as though spending the best part of the day with Martha and Victor had well and truly taken it out of him.

Danny eased himself off the couch, stepping out of the living room and into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind him. He brought his finger to his lips. "Caleb's asleep," he mouthed, and then he motioned toward the kitchen.

Once they had retreated there, Teddy was slipping out of his coat and frowning. "Is he alright?" he asked, still looking in the direction of the living room. "Is he sick?"

Danny found himself listening for a note of concern in Teddy's voice. He wanted to know that Teddy was asking because he  _cared,_ and not because he simply wanted Danny to think he did.

Not entirely sure what the answer to either of Teddy's questions was, Danny found himself shrugging. "You were right: he has been cutting himself."

Teddy nodded slowly, not half as surprised as Danny wanted him to be. "At least you know for sure now, I guess."

He didn't look like he expected an apology, but Danny knew he deserved one.

"I'm sorry- for last night, for this morning, for being so short with you. I know you were only trying to help." Danny forced himself to meet Teddy's blue eyes. "I'm just…I'm not used to having somebody around, you know?"

Teddy's reply was a soft smile that had Danny wanting to kiss him again. Of course, he wanted Teddy to say something obnoxiously sweet like ' _get used to it,'_ but that was not the kind of depth either of them typically offered, nor was it a plausible promise.

"Don't mention it," Teddy assured him. "I'd probably be just as defensive."

There was no  _probably-_ he would be, no doubt, equally as protective over his kids and his decisions as a parent as Danny had been. In Danny's opinion, Teddy would have been even more defensive, if only because that had always been his nature.

Perhaps the reason they felt so compelled to each other.

"Did your Mom get home okay?" Danny asked, desperate for a change of subject, even if this particular one wasn't much happier.

"She was getting tired, so I told her I'd take her back, but then she got upset. The nurse said I should just leave them to it, that she'd keep an eye on her."

"You just left her there?" Danny asked, wincing when he realised how judgemental he sounded. Teddy didn't have time to be offended before Danny was apologising, insisting it came out wrong.

"What else  _could_  I do?" Teddy asked, running a hand down his face, and Danny realised this really  _had_  taken a toll. "She didn't want to leave Victor- I couldn't drag her out of there, kicking and screaming. She spent most of the time thinking I was some shady doctor who kept hanging around them to steal her purse, for God's sake." He shook his head. "I figured it would be better for all of us if I just left."

Of course, Danny knew that when Teddy said  _it was better for all of us,_ he really meant,  _it was easier for me,_ but he also knew that pointing this out would not help at all.

What he  _did_ want to ask was if Victor had been included in making this decision, if in his dying state he really should be bearing the responsibility of his vulnerable wife, if maybe he hadn't wanted his son to rush away so quickly.

"When Sofie gets home I can go back with you," Danny suggested. "I don't want to leave Caleb alone right now."

"I don't want to go back  _there_  right now," Teddy admitted, with a weak laugh. "God, I'm such a coward. I can't even face two sick, old people."

"I don't think it's your parents you can't face," Danny added gently. "Just the situation itself. It is a lot to deal with."

Teddy looked up, briefly, with a raised eyebrow. "You managed it alright."

"They aren't my parents," Danny reminded him.

"They don't feel like mine either," Teddy murmured. "And I don't mean that based on the lack of relationship we've had. I mean  _now._ I barely even recognise them. They were always so independent, so strong: now, I'm supposed to be taking care of  _them._ "

He wasn't complaining, simply stating the change, and Danny knew him well enough to recognise this.

Without thinking, he reached for Teddy's hand, gently squeezed. Words could offer little reassurance right now. What did Teddy want to hear? ' _It'll be over soon'?_ He doubted that, at this point, even the death of his parents would offer the other man any sort of relief. After all, with death came guilt, and Danny imagined all of the things Teddy  _hadn't_  done with regards to his parents would be more of a burden than caring for them ever could be.

"When you go home," Danny said, "I'll drop in with your Mom as much as I can. I know she has that nurse who lives with her, but it's not the same as company."

"You don't think I should take her back with me?"

"I don't know if she'd appreciate being uprooted from her home," Danny said honestly, their hands still linked together in a way that made electricity fire through his body. "I know you want her close, I know you want to be able to take care of her, but I'm not sure if that's what is best for your Mom."

"There's just so much to think about," Teddy groaned.

"We'll figure it out," Danny said, the same thing he had said to Caleb. He wondered when he was going to stop making empty promises to the people he loved, reserving to make everything better when he really did not have the faintest idea of where to start.

* * *

Sofie and Teddy managed dinner as a team effort, while Danny very carefully persuaded Caleb to get rid of any razors he had hidden.

It wasn't easy- especially not since Caleb was barely capable of lifting his head now the Whisky had properly hit, let alone in the mood for anything resembling a clean-out.

After a long hour of watching his son reluctantly withdraw sharp objects from places Danny would never even have considered checking—who knew Caleb would have had the imagination to hide a blade in the blu-tac used to hold his Assassin's Creed poster in place?—Caleb finally insisted that was all.

Of course, he hadn't given Danny much reason to believe him, and while Caleb had slept, Danny had been frantically researching self-harm in teenagers, learning the rush was similar to an addiction, that even if they said they had surrendered all, they likely had kept one as a comfort; a safety net.

For this reason, he wholeheartedly believed his son was likely hiding at least one more, but the other thing he'd found out online was that teens who cut usually did not have any intention of killing themselves- rather, they found cutting as a means to get through life.

It did not make the situation any better, but it made the outcome a little less bleak, in Danny's opinion. It also made him realise that hiding every razor in the house would not help Caleb to cope any better with the struggles life threw his way; that just because he couldn't use anything to cut himself at home, did not mean he would not find another way to hurt.

"I want to help you, and I'll do whatever that takes. But there are people who know more about this stuff than me," Danny explained, but he was doubting if Caleb was even listening, if the way he was clutching his head was any indication. "I want you to see a professional."

It was low, but Danny knew Caleb would probably not agree to this sober. Which was why he was posing the idea now, when he knew Caleb would say whatever he wanted to hear to get him out of the room so he could go back to sleeping the alcohol off. It felt a lot like hunting an already injured animal, but in the morning, convincing his son to stick to his word would be a lot easier than convincing him to get help.

"I don't  _need_ a therapist," Caleb groaned. "I need a new school."

There were a hundred schools Danny could send Caleb to instead, made easier by the fact it was still early in the school year, but that would not help Caleb deal with his underlying issues.

"If you agree to talk to someone- if you keep your appointments and you actually open up- and I see that you're really trying…then we'll talk about it."

He was giving in, just like he always did, but Danny had always been a sucker when it came to what his kids wanted. Caleb needed to start over, and if that meant a different school then so be it—but only if he kept his end of the bargain.

"Do we have a deal?"

" _Daaad."_ Caleb's arm was thrown over his eyes, blocking out the light that was no doubt aiding his headache. After a long moment, he sighed. "Fine- whatever."

Feeling like maybe he had finally accomplished something, Danny got to his feet, the plastic bag of weapons his child had used against himself still in his hand. Before he left the room, he shut the light off, and ruffled Caleb's hair, taking comfort in the fact that even if so many things about the boy had changed, the fact he still didn't dodge this attempt at affection had not.

* * *

After dinner, Victor's doctor called Danny to suggest he come get Martha. They were both worn out, apparently, and she was beginning to get in the way.

"I'll go by myself," Teddy insisted, but Danny knew it was half-hearted.

It could well be Victor's last night- there was no chance Teddy wanted to face that alone.

Danny left Sofie with a set of instructions for being with her brother she had never heard before. "Check on him every fifteen minutes," Danny told her, reciting something a website had encouraged. "When he wakes up, try and get him to eat a little, but he probably won't feel up to it. Don't force him to talk if he doesn't want to."

Sofie was confused, obviously. Caleb's problems were far too complex to be summarised into the length of one meal, so she was unaware of any drama beyond the fact her brother had stumbled across a bottle of whisky and downed a few sips.

To her, Caleb was just Caleb, and Danny wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could. It was not that he expected a huge shift in their relationship- he knew that Sofie would come to realise her brother was still her brother- but he figured that being treated any differently at all was probably not in Caleb's best interests.

"I'll call you later to check in," Danny assured her, kissing Sofie's head when he returned from checking on his sleeping teenager. Then, he turned to Teddy. "Ready to go?"

Teddy looked anything but ready, but Danny chose not to comment.

They drove mostly in silence, with Danny lost in the unfamiliarity of the roads he had never been on in the dark before and the blinding lights of the traffic, and Teddy lost in a thousand thoughts Danny couldn't read.

He reached over, resting his hand on Teddy's thigh, a reassurance he had wanted to offer so many times when they had been in a car together back when Teddy had been somebody else.

Teddy looked over at him, smiled weakly and then didn't look away.

Danny cleared his throat, suddenly awkward, because for all they had implied they had yet to actually discuss whatever was going on between them. "Uh, you wanted to call your daughters?"

If it stopped one of them saying something Teddy might later regret- and something Danny  _wouldn't-_ then he was happy for this relief in silence.

"Nah, I called them when you were with Caleb earlier." Teddy sighed heavily, like it had not gone how he anticipated or hoped. "The good news is Daphne sounded happy to hear from me, the bad news is Maddie had convinced both herself and her sister that I'm not coming back, so I got attitude from her."

Sadistic, perhaps, but Danny found himself almost smiling that he was not the only one having difficulties as a parent. "Teenagers, huh?"

Teddy nodded. "Damn straight." There was another long stretch of silence, and then Teddy was shifting in his seat, turning toward Danny. "Can I ask you something?"

Danny's stomach was churning with nerves, his mind beginning to frantically list all the direct questions Teddy could pose regarding their relationship that he still couldn't answer, even after all of this time.

"Uh, sure thing."

"Doesn't it ever bother you?" Remembering Danny could not read minds, obviously, Teddy reiterated, "That you aren't Sofie and Caleb's biological father, I mean." Teddy looked away, out the window, away from Danny. "Doesn't it ever make you feel… _replaceable_?"

If Danny had been feeling particularly touchy, that may have hit a nerve, but he could tell by the wavering in Teddy's voice that he wasn't being intentionally insensitive- there was probably an underlying reason he was asking, one Danny had yet to hear.

"I don't think about it," Danny admitted, shrugging, and he knew it made him sound like a liar, but it was the truth. "I don't know- it never really comes up, you know? I guess maybe it means more to them than it does to me, but I couldn't love them any more even if there was DNA between us. I don't think it's any different than parenting two kids who are biologically yours. You make your mistakes, you do the best you can and you just pray that's enough."

He took his eyes off the road for a second, to look at Teddy, who was staring right back at him, engrossed. "We've been each other's lives for too long for me to feel replaceable. Even if Caleb was still seeing his mother, even if Sofie decided tomorrow she wanted to have a relationship with Carlos, that won't undo the fact that they've been my whole world for as long as either of them can remember; they might have contact with their biological parents one day, but that won't automatically mean they'll stop needing their Dad."

Even as he was saying this, he was realising he had been guilty of overlooking these principles: when it came to Sofie, Danny had wrongly assumed that now she was moving away she had overnight grown into a functioning independent adult, that it was her way of distancing herself from him. The truth was, her decision to move abroad with her mother hadn't meant that she'd suddenly stop sleeping with the stuffed animal (a panda that was now missing an eye) who had been trailed from Elena's house to his every other weekend, to summer camp, to college. It did not mean that she would no longer call him (hysterical and in need of being told it would all be okay) when she got a flat tyre, or when she forgot to pay her electricity bill, or when she had had a fight with her Mom. The fact she was going to a foreign country with two people whom she had not always had a perfect relationship did not mean she needed him any less- if anything, the prospect of leaving behind the only life she'd ever known to start from scratch in a strange place only meant she needed him  _more._

Whatever bearing this had on what was running through Teddy's mind must have been significant, because now the other man was smiling- properly  _grinning_ \- at him, like he'd been told exactly what he wanted to hear.

Huh. Who knew. Sometimes Danny didn't even need to try.

The urge to make a cocky remark was silenced only by Teddy linking their fingers together again, and it was positively pathetic that Danny's heartbeat picked up- but it did, and he thanked God it was dark so Teddy couldn't see him blush.


	21. Parents and children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took forever, I'm very sorry I've just been trying to focus whatever energy I have on Promises and Politics. No more excuses, I'm off all week so I WILL upload another chapter of this on Friday.
> 
> I hope this was worth the wait. I always forget how much I love this story until I start up writing it again, so it means an awful lot that people are continuing to read and enjoy it. As always, reviews and follows make my day- I can never thank you enough. Sometimes that email is exactly what I need to see to feel better when I'm having a rough time!
> 
> Teddy's POV, let me know what you think and check back Friday night! I love and appreciate any of you who read and follow this story, and I want to continue to make you all happy with it. It's pretty long, (7, 267 words!) so I hope that sort of makes up for the fact it took so long!

Victor had gotten worse since this morning, paler, and was now a shade of white that was practically bleeding onto the pillow he was lying lifelessly on.

Martha was asleep beside him on the bed, her body curled around his. The whole scene had Danny tearing up beside him, but Teddy couldn't conjure any emotion other than shock.

He'd never witnessed this type of affection when he was growing up. Was that part of the reason he found relationships so difficult? In his experience, a marriage was an intrusion, a distraction from work, a trap. Maybe that long-established mind-set was the reason he seemed so poor at it.

"I'll take her home," Danny offered, gently shaking Martha awake by her shoulders. "Hey," he said gently, when her eyes opened, calm and soothed instead of the wild defiance Teddy had found there earlier. "It's time to go."

Danny was offering because he wanted to force Teddy into time alone with Victor, but Teddy wouldn't have argued anyway: after all, Martha seemed to be more peaceful in Danny's company than his own.

He was doing it again—making this a competition when it  _wasn't,_ but he couldn't help it. It was like every time he and Danny worked their way to something more than casual acquaintances, every single time they made _progress,_ Teddy's mind began to race with all of the ways he would always waver in comparison to Danny; when he got scared, Teddy tried to force a resentment for Danny that might take the place of the uncertain way he currently felt.

"Will you take care of him, Doctor?" Martha asked him directly, looking past Danny. She clutched Victor's hand. "If I can't stay with him, I want to know he's being looked after."

Teddy couldn't speak, couldn't conjure the words of reassurance she wanted. He swallowed hard and nodded as positively as he could.

"Of course we will," Danny cut in, edging closer to the door and holding it open for Martha. "You need to say goodbye so I can bring you home."

She looked from Danny to Teddy and then back again. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Teddy exchanged glances with Danny over the top of his mother's head. Would Victor even be alive tomorrow? Would Martha be fit to visit him? Would they be emotionally capable of watching another attempt at goodbye between the two?

"We'll see," Danny said, so Teddy wouldn't have to. He nodded toward Victor. "Say goodbye."

Victor was too out of it for words right now—a fact that made the prospect of being alone with him a little less daunting to Teddy—but Martha had been holding conversation for the two of them for most of day.

Now, though, she seemed beyond words. She inched forward, leaned down and gently brushed her lips to his forehead. "I love you," she said, and when he felt Danny's eyes on him, Teddy blushed and looked away.

He made a point of coughing awkwardly, just to fill the silence as his mother inched away from Victor, and he couldn't decide if this would amuse or piss Danny off.

Regardless, he left within a moment, his arm on Martha's back as he guided her out the door—stopping her from looking back. He shot Teddy a look. "I'll be back after—" he motioned towards the now-confused woman struggling with her coat.

Teddy nodded, eager for them to leave so he wouldn't have to feel so awkward, but then they did and he couldn't stop himself from wishing them back. His relationship with his mom, his relationship with Danny…they were both in desperate need of repair, and work, and continued perseverance as they were probably the two most complicated people he had ever known, but they were also the only relationships he had here that were worth working at, that held any level of permanence attached. Even if between them it did seem they were silently conspiring to drive him crazy, they were also the people he'd missed the most when he'd left and as such, they were only ones who he'd felt anywhere near comfortable with upon coming back.

Victor chose this moment to crack open his eyes. "M-Martin?"

Teddy resisted the urge to correct him, if only because it would take more words than: "yeah."

"Your m-mother…"

"She just left," Teddy replied, acutely aware of how sluggish Victor's speech had become in the time he and Danny had been gone. "She wants to come back tomorrow, though." The words were out of his mouth before he could try and take them back, but he felt himself blushing all the same. He twisted his hands together in his lap, wondering why in this moment, rather than all the others that they had spent similarly, it was now he felt like he had to stop himself from reaching out to touch.

It wasn't like anything had changed—earlier they had been civil to each other, passing cold-but-polite pleasantries more for the sake of his mother than for themselves, but they still hadn't had a conversation that wasn't filled with hostility and one-sided blame.

Yet, as he and Danny had left the apartment again this evening, Teddy had stood by the bedroom door and watched as his friend had tucked the blanket Caleb had kicked off in his fitful sleep back around him, watched as Danny hesitated, whispering something Teddy didn't deserve to hear and affectionately running his hand through the sleeping boy's hair.

It had been so quietly indicative of an intimate relationship between a father and his son, Danny's love for a kid, who by anyone's admission was one hell of a struggle at the best of times, was so blatantly obvious, Teddy's thoughts had turned to his own father.

Danny was naturally loving, the reason he'd adapted to father-hood so well. It was  _easy_  for him, a genuine skill he enjoyed rather than the instinctive re-learning it had been for Teddy. But not everybody loved as easily as Danny did, not everybody had an honest knack with kids, not everybody could re-arrange their life to revolve around a child like he had.

He didn't know much about his father's parents—they'd died before he was born—but he'd always assumed they were distant, detached, similar to his own. He knew this wasn't an excuse—Danny's parents had been _abusive_  for God's sake, it wasn't like being a piece of shit parent was inherited—but he'd always believed you were pretty much a product of your environment, especially when life got tough and it became harder to make decisions for yourself. Why else had Nashville been such an escape for him, moulding him into an entirely different person?

The point was, it was the first time he'd considered the possibility that while both he and Danny had spent their lives as Dads intent on contradicting their own fathers, maybe Victor had been following exactly what he'd been taught.

When Maddie was born, Teddy was twenty-seven, but emotionally he'd felt like he was thirty-five. Any teenage immaturity left inside of him had quickly vanished after all he and Danny had been through, and that was enough to force him into finally growing up—once and for all.

Victor, on the other hand, had been married and a father by twenty-three, and while three years seemed so insignificant to Teddy now, when imaging himself at twenty-three he knew it was a big enough leap to make a difference.

While most guys that age were socialising, Victor was pouring himself into work, trying to learn how to be a parent and work his way up the career ladder at the same time. Obviously, one had demanded more attention, or had been able to keep him satisfied for longer, and that one hadn't been Martin.

So he'd chosen his career over his family, maybe because it was what he wanted, or maybe because it was what he'd been taught to want. It struck Teddy around this moment that even though he'd resented him so much for never trying to get to know him, he realised he didn't know all that much about his father either.

Maybe they were both a little guilty of isolating each other, maybe they had both slacked a little when it came to making a real effort, in different ways.

"Should I have called?" Victor asked quietly, the words coming out slowly but steadily now he'd had a moment to gather enough energy to speak.

He blinked. "What?"

"While you were in Nashville…should I have called?" He was barely managing to keep his eyes open—too weak to fight whatever drossiness his body was demanding. "I…wrote…"

He'd mentioned this before, but Teddy didn't point that out. "No," he said, and he felt like his throat had suddenly slammed shut. "No, you were right not to call."

Maybe it wasn't the right thing to say, but it was the truth. Part of the reason he'd been able to completely re-create himself in Nashville had been because he hadn't had somebody to hold him back—if he'd been fielding weekend phone calls from his parents back in New York, his new life would have seemed much more of a lie, much more unreal.

Still, whether it was true or not didn't seem to ease the blow. Before Teddy could evaluate the situation, there were tears on Victor's otherwise dry cheeks.

Only now did he realize how it must have hurt to hear from your only child that their non-existent relationship with you was likely for the best.

"I'm sorry," Teddy said, automatic reaction rather than a sincere apology.

"A-are you happy?" Victor's voice sounded small, resigned mingled with something resembling curiosity.

Teddy let the question sink in. He had been happy for a very long time with Rayna. Despite everything that had happened during the course of their relationship, they had genuinely cared about each other, genuinely wanted their family to be different from the ones they had been a part of growing up, genuinely loved their daughters and wanted what was best for each other for their sake—if nothing else.

But things were far from perfect and when Teddy had come to his senses and filed for divorce—before Rayna could, and that might have been pathetic but it was marginally less so than waiting around for her to ride off into the sunset with Deacon would have been—there had been an element of relief; a reassurance he would no longer have to compete with another man for his wife's affections; a resentful but honest happiness for Rayna now that she no longer had to pretend to be in love with him, now that she could be free.

And even if they couldn't see it right now, Teddy firmly believed their divorce had been in their daughters best interests too—a loveless marriage was no standard for any child to hold in high esteem. They were both adored equally as much as they had been when Teddy and Rayna had been living together, except now they got to see what it was like when their Mom smiled and meant it: how their Dad made decisions completely independent of others influences, something he had never really had the chance to do before.

Most of all, they had learned that love, marriage,  _life_  wasn't always perfect. That sometimes people made mistakes; fell in love with other people; couldn't agree on a chosen career.

Navigating Maddie's emotions regarding Deacon as her biological father was an ongoing struggle—one Teddy felt less equipped to deal with now Rayna was better and able to take a side that he doubted would be his (although she had sworn she wouldn't) – but spending this last few days with Danny and his kids had opened his eyes to see that you could feel like you'd lost somebody, but that doesn't mean you really have. When it came to your child, you didn't run out of second chances, and in turn, neither did they.

He might have been returning to two kids he had a lot of making up to do with for his leaving so abruptly, but that didn't mean their time apart and his lack of explanation would create a rift. It might take too much ice-cream and a few nights of staying up a half hour past bedtime, but he would have his absence made up to them sooner than he was allowing himself to believe; his love for them was obvious, there was no question that they would come around.

His job wasn't the disaster he'd thought it would be—it turned out, his role as Mayor was a more figurative than practical one. Sure, he made a lot of the decisions and proposed a lot of the ideas, but for the most part, he hadn't completely messed anything in the town up and surely that was all that mattered? Moreover, it was a job that didn't give him nightmares, didn't leave him wondering if somebody he loved was at risk of being shot and it turned out he kind of liked having his own office.

For the most part, his life was good, but it was the reflection upon it while being removed from the situation that had him seeing it this way now. If it hadn't been for Danny practically dragging his ass back here, he would have spent these last few days worrying constantly over Maddie's affection, fighting with Rayna and allowing his emotions to cloud his judgement.

He might have been alright before, but it was the space and time—and, okay,  _Danny_ —that had made him realize he was  _happy_.

"I think so," he answered quietly, feeling like his head was suddenly going to explode. Too much thinking had taken place today.

It probably didn't present him a very good person to admit he was happy while his father was dying, but he hoped Victor was too ill to connect the dots.

"I—I just wanted you…to be happy. All along, that was…what I wanted." It was a lie for sure, but Teddy forced himself to bite his lip to keep from arguing. Every time he was in the room alone with Victor, he blew up, and so far all it had done was make the situation worse, make Danny angry at him and cause the nurses to eye him up and down suspiciously. "I knew you…weren't happy here."

That part was true: he  _had_  been miserable. He had let his boss down, let his team down, let his  _parents_ down. He was a mess who couldn't function, was too traumatised to pass any kind of psychological assessment to return to work but had never been good enough at anything else to try a different career instead. His best friend was getting married to somebody who was perfect for him, and all he could do was stand by and watch, hoping nobody could tell it was killing him. He couldn't see past his hurt enough to be happy for the people around him who were moving on, and that was only making him hate himself even more.

But Caleb was pretty messed up right now—so much so even  _Danny_  had admitted it-and his dad wasn't shipping him out of the state. Maybe Martin had needed a fresh start, but had Victor really needed to drive him 800 odd miles away to get it?

Teddy warned himself to stop making the comparison. Everybody handled things differently. Danny had always faced things head-on; his father had preferred to ignore them until they blew up and then carefully dispose of them when it got messy.

The point was, Victor had done what he'd thought was the right thing—the only thing, and although he was now telling Teddy his reasons were purely based on what was best for his son, years of feeling rejected could not be forgotten that easily.

"I just…I didn't know how to deal with it," Victor was murmuring, and Teddy wondered why the dying man suddenly looked so wide awake and startled. "Your mother and I were raised traditionally, it was…difficult for us to….understand…"

It was tradition to send your emotionally damaged adult son to live with an old friend in another state?  _What_?

"…and then the way you were…I couldn't stand what it was doing to you…not telling us and not able to talk to him and…"

Okay, there was no way they were still having the same conversation. "What are you talking about?"

A nurse chose that moment to check in. "How are you feeling?" she asked a rattled Victor, who was still muttering useless apologies under his breath. Teddy had to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from pushing her back out the door. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

He wasn't sure when this had shifted from hospital to hospice care—or if it had been that all along, and he had just subconsciously decided not to recognise it—but Teddy could read between the lines.  _Comfortable_ meant death was inevitable, and although Danny had pretty much made this clear from the day he'd arrived in Teddy's kitchen, for some reason this was only resonating inside him now.

When she left—realising quickly this was a private conversation she was not a part of and that quite possibly there was nothing she could do that would make this any easier for either of them—Teddy shut his eyes and leaned against the bed with his head in his hands.

"I thought you would…come back and then…when you didn't, I realised it must have been because you—you couldn't tell us—"

"—I don't know what you're talking about," Teddy said, a headache beginning to surface as he rubbed his temples gently. "But I get it, okay? It all worked out for the best. I love my family and I wouldn't have them if you hadn't brought me to Nashville. I'm good—I'm doing good. Maybe it wasn't how I would have handled it, but it—it was the right thing at the time and I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

He was giving in for the sake of giving in, something he had sworn he wouldn't do, but the fact that Victor was actually going to  _die_ was still swirling around in his mind, staining every inch of it with its permanence. Why did he suddenly care? Why did it matter now? They'd been as good as dead to each other for fourteen years—surely this change of heart was futile?

"I thought you'd come back," Victor said, after a moment, "when you were ready to tell us-"

Teddy felt exhausted, wiped out purely by the effort that this brief exchange was taking. "Tell you what?" he asked, but it was a formality—he was too preoccupied by his own thoughts to care about Victor's.

"—and then I heard you were married….with…children and I decided I must have made a mistake—"

Teddy wasn't sure what part of the whole thing Victor classed as a mistake, but he doubted he was going to get a coherent explanation even if he pressed, so he sat back a little in his chair and waited for the older man to finish, thinking of the fragility of life and how many other sons had sat in this exact chair and watched and waited for their fathers to die.

"—but I…promised I would…let you make the first move…and when you didn't—and now…with Danny, you two…he's a good boy." An awkward pause, and Teddy felt his heartbeat picking up—why was this coming back to Danny? "I've always been proud of you. You…couldn't have let me down…if you tried. I just…wish I could have…said this back when you needed to hear it."

The hair on the back of Teddy's neck stood up on ends even though he didn't know why. He couldn't understand how after all this time the words still held any amount of validation at all, but they did—and Victor was right, he had needed to hear this approval and appraisal before, but maybe, just maybe, he'd also needed to learn to live without it.

He had tried to live his life in accordance to what the people around him wanted—his parents, his co-workers, his friends, his wife. It was he who had put the pressure upon his own shoulders to do so, yet he blamed them when he fell short.

It had taken a lot of learning, but he'd finally grasped how to let go of that childish desire to please. Danny was the love he didn't need to work for; it didn't matter who he was or where he'd been or what he could or couldn't do— they could stand the test of time, he hadn't even needed to be  _there_ for Danny to go on caring about him. A friendship, a relationship, was much less daunting when it wasn't filled with one-sided expectations: it was comfortable, familiar, so far from the thin line he had navigated quietly in past relationships.

Another lesson time and independence and peace had taught him—another thing he would not have been able to see if he'd stayed in New York, blinded by the same people he had grown jaded trying to impress.

"Thanks," Teddy managed to say, his throat suddenly ridiculously dry. It wasn't much of a response, but he didn't know what else to say—so many times he had gone over the angry speech he would one day fume to this man in his mind, but now that he pieced it together he felt ashamed as how immature he had been, how he had spent so long angry with Victor for all the wrong reasons. Now, he looked up at a monitor that looked a little too chaotic for someone who was supposed to be dying somewhat peacefully. "Listen, maybe you should be resting—"

"—is that why you stayed away for so long?" Victor asked, ignoring him completely, but Teddy was too distracted to be offended. "Is that why your marriage didn't work out? Because…you thought you'd let us down…because of Danny?"

"Danny?" Teddy moved his chair forward now the older man's tone had lowered—it was barely above a whisper, barely audible at all over the constant beeping and humming of surrounding machines. "My marriage?" He frowned. "No, listen, that has nothing to do with—"

"You couldn't tell us," Victor murmured softly, a sad smile on his face barely enough to mask the appearance of fresh tears, "you couldn't…tell your mother and I that you…loved him. So you stayed gone."

Teddy swallowed hard. Was that what it had looked like to Victor? To his mother? Martin, too much of a coward to come out, chose to hide in Nashville instead?

For a split second, Teddy found himself questioning if it really was all that crazy. It might have been subconscious. It might have been that he'd been running from more than just the people here.

But he shoved that thought from his mind just as quickly—he'd stayed away because he had a life in Nashville that trumped that he'd left behind in New York; he'd married Rayna because he loved her on some level and wanted them to be happy together, even if it hadn't been for nearly as long as he'd once thought; when he thought back on the ways he felt Victor had let him out, not being approachable enough to come out to was probably not even in the top twenty.

"That wasn't it," he said automatically, but there was still some shock there, because he honestly hadn't thought his father had been aware enough to come up with this conclusion. "I stayed gone because my life is there now— no other reason."

It was true. When he'd left, the last thing on his mind had been telling his parents he was in love with Danny Taylor. It had once been a compulsive part of his thinking, but then almost dying and being traumatised by a hostage situation hit him harder than he expected, his best friend was getting married, he was losing the only job he'd ever been half-decent at and suddenly sexuality struggles seemed to rank much lesser on the scale of things he really needed to change about himself.

"But you—you couldn't tell us…"

"I couldn't tell him, either," Teddy admitted, and he still couldn't really, couldn't express how he felt towards Danny beyond all-too-brief kisses in corridors and subtle intimate touches in the car. But it wasn't because he was another man—it was because this was too important to screw up, it was because all good things took time, it was because Teddy was afraid that saying the words he longed to aloud would only make their inevitable—if hopefully temporary—goodbye all the more painful. "I had barely dealt with it myself. It was just…another thing I wasn't able to deal with back then."

It had never just been one thing, one person. It had been the entirely of all his problems, all his pain. It had been failure and resentment and anger and misunderstanding and fear all tanged together, suffocating him. Maybe he didn't think Victor had done the right thing driving him to Nashville in the middle of the night with a fake ID in the front pocket of his car, but Martin hadn't had a better alternative back then and fourteen years later, Teddy wasn't so sure he did now, either.

"How did you know anyway?" Teddy asked after a long pause. "About me and Danny. Did he say something?"

"It was seeing you…that day in the courthouse, after he testified. Watching you two watch each other." Victor stopped to take a long breath. "After…well, seeing how much he missed you…how desperate he was to find you…it made me realise there really had been more to it than I'd thought."

"We didn't—there wasn't—" this was perhaps the most awkward conversation he had ever had with Victor, and wow, was that saying something, "we weren't actually—"

"I knew that." Another faint smile, but he had stopped crying and Teddy was relived.

"You should be resting," came out as a scold, and Teddy blushed upon remembering they were still virtually strangers. He didn't want to give in after one conversation, didn't want it to have been this easy for Victor to gain a foothold with him again—but the man was dying, and they were both dragging this out needlessly. The past was the past and this time, when Teddy met Victor's eyes, he didn't feel a stabbing in his chest or a knot of anger forming in the pit of his stomach. He just felt pity, felt remorse, felt mournful that their relationship had been reduced to years of blame and misunderstanding each other.

Maybe all children had this moment of re-connecting with a parent—for most, it came at the peak of adulthood, when money was tight and relationships less than perfect and suddenly there was understanding, a quiet appreciation that real life was hard; that turning of age to legally make your own decisions did not mean you automatically knew every answer, just that you were expected to; that becoming a parent might have been a biological and emotional process, but it did not mean you were rendered incapable of making mistakes—rather, it only made those mistakes all the more detrimental, because now it was not just you who suffered.

Parents and children were destined to disappoint each other, Teddy supposed. Mothers and fathers were never the superheroes their kids needed them to be; sons and daughters would forever fall short of expectations, regardless of how loved they were. It was a relationship that was a constant power-struggle, the eternal battle of resistance. Parents were supposed to want what was best for their children above all else, but there came a point when that stopped being their job, when their child had to make their own decisions and all parents could do was hope they didn't make the same mistakes they had. But like every other relationship, it took time, it took mutual effort, and it took a lot of patience. Just because you shared DNA or were legally bound together for eighteen years you were not necessarily going to appreciate and adore each other, but it did mean you were obliged to pretend.

Teddy didn't want to ever have to pretend with his daughters, didn't ever want to become so distant from them that he could harbour assumptions for years that might eat him alive just because neither of them had been brave enough to try and talk it out.

It meant swallowing his pride, and it meant doing something he swore he'd never do, but Teddy was determined to be a better teacher than that.

Slowly, he reached out and threaded his hand together with Victor's. He lost his breath when he felt bones so prominent beneath the wrinkled skin; he bit his lip when Victor looked up at him with wide, shining eyes and told him once again he was sorry.

When you're a child, Teddy realized, you don't see your parents as humans who bruise and bleed and screw up; you don't speak their language of regret, you miss the glimpses of sorrow in their eyes.

They're adults- older, in control of their own life with the power of experience and knowledge, when in reality, they could be a lost twenty-something fresh out of college with a degree they don't know what to do with, you evidence of a drunken night out following the biggest heartbreak of their lives; they could have had you to desperately stuff their life full so they might forget that they're missing something else, hoping you might fill the hole the last person who left them left behind; they could be living under a false identity, running from demons they weren't mature enough to deal with yet.

Being a parent didn't mean you had become superhuman—parents were really just people who used to be full of hope, who had lived but never lived enough, who had loved and been broken so many times they surprised themselves every day that they still had a heart.

Ultimately, you became an adult overnight, and you became a parent almost as quickly or with as little warning. You would never be prepared enough; you would never have enough time or energy to be everything to your children at every moment. It was so easy to hold a newborn in your arms and swear you would never be like your own parents- that you'd be so much more attentive than they were, that you'd be more forthcoming when it came to showing love, that you would not suffocate them with protection but give them the space to live their own lives.

But then life would begin again, and work bled into weekends more than you had planned; you missed recitals and games and school plays in favor for a conference you probably could have gotten someone else to attend for you; you came home late some nights to find your kids asleep in bed before you'd even gotten a chance to kiss them goodnight; when they asked if they could go to a party or a four-day school trip, your mind was suddenly bombarded with every horrible succession of things you had ever seen, your instinct to keep them safe so much stronger than the memory of being thirteen and wanting your freedom.

You did whatever you felt you had to do provide for them, to be the best parent you could be. You tried carefully not to retrace your parents footsteps, but there would always be overlaps, there would always be days when your daughter looked at you the way you had once looked at your father. You loved unconditionally and pretended it was the easiest thing in the world; you tricked yourself into believing that the children at home made up for your dissatisfaction with your job or the fact you thought you'd know who you were by the time you were thirty-nine but don't, or the panging in your chest for the best friend you hadn't spoken to in fourteen years who was the only person who'd ever made you feel like you belonged somewhere. You put aside any thoughts of your past to make room for the future; you got lost in the domesticity of day-to-day family life and forgot what first kisses tasted like. You poured yourself into the role you were supposed to fulfil, and you aimlessly made up the rules as you went along, hoping nobody could tell you were still learning how to be a parent ten years into it.

You bit your tongue, but sometimes you didn't bite it hard enough. You had to step back somedays and others you needed to step forward- it was guessing when to do which that was the hard part. You ended some days feeling like you were superman, others like you were a waste of flesh, and others you were too exhausted to consider either a win or fail. You offered advice that might fall on deaf ears; you were honest when it was what they needed, you lied when it wasn't. You lost your temper and you learned what guilt tasted like when you saw tears; you let them take advantage too often too, realizing you were damned either way when they punished themselves instead. You buried insecurities in your mind along with the grocery list, telling yourself the example they needed was one that was strong and capable.

When it came to the end of your life, you would not be able to apologize enough for all the mistakes you had made that had impacted on them.

But that kind of relationship, that kind of love, was based upon forgiveness. While parents made excuses for their children's failings, kids needed to be out on their own, living faults for themselves, before they could justify that of their parents. Sometimes all it took was empathy and lots of it; sometimes all it took was making the first move. Mostly, it took time—there was a reason neither being a parent or a child were a 9-5 job. You couldn't retire from being somebody's whole entire world—even if it had only been for a little while—not even if you wanted to, not even if you thought you had.

You could put as many miles and as much hurt between you as you wanted, as humanly possible—there would always be a way around it, as Teddy now realized.

You could build the highest wall around yourself that you felt you needed to— if you had a father like Danny, he would love you enough to climb it.

You could be caught so fiercely between two parents (or three, in Maddie's case) pulled in so many different directions, trying to make everybody happy and failing and only really wanting to find the place you belonged— when the dust settled, and all was said and done, you knew where your home was, and most of all the fighting was just a testament to how precious you were, how loved, how wanted.

Turning his attention back to his now half-sleeping father, Teddy wondered if he would be able to slip out and call the girls again. They'd said their goodnights earlier, but they would still be awake, and right now all he wanted to do was remind them that things might be a mess right now, but that together they would untangle everything until all that was left were options and honest questions with no wrong answers and the assurance that he would always forgive them anything, that he loved them both too much to ever allow divorce or lack of DNA to erode their relationship.

Delicately, he eased his hand from on top of his father's, and this had Victor opening his eyes again.

"I thought you were asleep," Teddy said softly, allowing his father to take his hand once more. Victor swallowed, and Teddy could tell that had caused him some level of pain. "Do you want me to get a nurse?"

Victor shook his head, sadly and gently. "Your mother- I'm sorry she won't… be much of a comfort… when I'm… gone."

He could barely swallow around the lump in his throat. When he blinked, he felt tears on the tips of his eyelashes. He wasn't sure who he was crying for—his mother, his father or himself. All three, perhaps. This was a horrible situation all round.

"Not a single day…went by…that we didn't… think of you. I want you to remember that." Victor's other hand on his cheek, and it was shaking so much that Teddy had to hold it there. It felt too cold against his own warm, damp skin. This all suddenly felt so wrong, like everything was happening too soon. "You've made me… so proud. Just seeing you again… knowing you're happy…"

"Dad," he said again, and the word felt so foreign on his tongue, so strange, and he realized what while this might be the first time in years he had called Victor it, it was likely one of the last times he would, too. "Dad—"

"I love you, son." Victor's hand coming up to touch his hair, resting on top of his head, while the other continued to touch his cheek, all around his forehead, like he was committing Teddy's face to memory.

He could very easily not say it back—Victor didn't look like he was expecting a reply at all, in fact. Twenty-four hours ago he'd been yelling at his father, now Teddy was crying by his bedside like the dutiful son he hadn't been for the last fourteen years. It didn't feel right, but neither had going away, neither had coming back, but both of these things had changed him, and made him a better person.

He doubted returning Victor's sentiments would have the same effect, but before he'd been such an integral part of Teddy's past, he'd been Martin's role model, the strongest man he'd ever known, his very first hero. They'd decorated Christmas trees together and he'd cheered for him at swimming meets and they laughed at the same cheesy jokes and shared the same half-broken smile. He was more than just his wrongs as a father. There had been nights staying up late in the family's cabin by the fire telling ghost stories his mother would pretend to be afraid of; there had been two solid months of teaching him to drive when he turned fifteen, when for the first time that Martin had been able to remember he'd felt like his father was being hard on him because he cared about his safety; there had been sincere and honest moments of genuine shared feeling, like when their family dog Brody got put down and he saw his father cry for the very first time, or when Martin graduated from college and his father insisted his mother take about a million photographs.

There had been good times—things he had overlooked in his readiness to blame someone, anyone, for the way his life had turned out, for the way only he had forced himself to feel. There had been so much good that if he really let himself think about it, should have overshadowed all the bad, but hadn't been allowed to.

Until now.

He guided the hand on the top of his head back down the bed, squeezing it gently with one of his own. Victor's right had stayed where it was, on Teddy's cheek, thumb working to wipe away tears as they fell.

"I love you too, Dad," Teddy said, and he'd spent the last five minutes fighting the sob rising in his throat, biting his lip to keep from crying out, but now, he let it all go. Seconds later, his shoulders were shaking and they were clutching each other's hands too tightly and Danny was due back any minute but Teddy didn't care. He buried his face in the bed sheets, Victor mumbling useless reassurances to mask the fact he was crying too. Teddy sobbed so hard his chest hurt, Victor cried until he had tired himself out completely, until he had fallen into another weak sleep, but Teddy kept on crying.

He was crying for himself, for the years he missed out on with his parents, for the relationship he'd been too stubborn at twenty-six to try and mend, for the impending loss of this perhaps unacknowledged, but always silently permanent presence in his life. He cried for his mother, for the way she used to be and all she had had to say goodbye to—enough to make anybody lose their mind, he figured. He cried for his daughters, for the memories they would never get to make with the grandparents they would now never have the opportunity to know. He cried for Victor, for all the nights he had been in this hospital room alone and in pain, for all the guilt and regret bottled inside that must have eaten at him all this time, for the years he'd spent waiting for the phone to ring or the door to open, for the years he had spent watching his wife deteriorate at the same speed he did, wondering if either of them would get to see their son before they died.

He cried until the tears just stopped coming, until the door behind him opened a crack and Danny quietly slipped in.

"Teddy?" said softly, a whisper, but the tap on his shoulder was enough to draw his attention. He turned his head to face the other man. "Are you okay?"

He wasn't capable of words, afraid to open his mouth again in case another sob came out and woke Victor. Danny met his eyes, nodded once, and seemed to understand. He inched closer and perched on the edge of the bed. He took the hand of Victor's that had fallen from Teddy's face in his sleep and clasped it inside his own. He did the same with Teddy's, the one he was trying to wipe his eyes with.

Danny sat between Teddy and his father, both of their hands in his lap and being periodically squeezed by his own. It made Teddy think about earlier that day, when his mother had held his hand as Danny had held onto her arm. They were connected, linked together once again, and it was the simplest way to wordlessly say ' _you're not alone'_ that Teddy had thought possible.

His thoughts stilled, and now his eyes were heavy. He hadn't realized he was even the least bit tired earlier, but now there was a certain serenity about the way he felt—he didn't know if it was because Victor was asleep, or because Danny was here now, or even if it was simply the fact he had finally allowed this thing to break him apart, but regardless, it left him feeling about as content as conceivable in this situation.

It really wasn't all that much, but he supposed it was enough to get him through the next few hours. And if not, well, he still had Danny on his side.


	22. They pick really horrible times to flirt, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! I bet you thought I wouldn't upload on Friday as promised! Well... you'd be right because technically it stopped being Friday five minutes ago where I am. Still- closer to a deadline than I have been for a very long time now! Progress, people.
> 
> Glad the last chapter broke plenty of hearts, that was the plan. This one is a little better (if you squint) still Teddy's POV, haha I think that says it all.
> 
> Hope you like, let me know what you think. Thank you, and much love!

He hadn't planned to fall asleep—hadn't realised how tired he was, really. It was much easier to fall asleep when he didn't have the weight of a somewhat non-existent father-son relationship on his shoulders; when Danny was still holding tightly to his hand.

At some point during his slumber, he cracked an eye open enough to see that his father was awake again, that he was talking to Danny in hushed tones. The last thing Teddy heard before he gave into exhaustion again was something that sounded suspiciously like, " _take care of them for me_."

When he did wake up, properly, Danny was waving a polystyrene cup in front of his face, luring him back to the world of the conscious. "I figured you might want this."

Yawning, Teddy sat up a little straighter in his chair and took the cup with a gracious smile. He felt like he'd been asleep for hours, but when he looked to the blind-covered windows, there was not a splinter of light sneaking in.

"What time is it?" he asked, punctuated with another yawn. He looked at the man in the bed between them, who looked pale enough to fade from the room altogether, but was thankfully still sleeping soundly—although he couldn't help but note the laboured way Victor was breathing again, so far from the peaceful scene it had been just a little while ago.

"Just after three," Danny murmured, as he concentrated firmly on the clock on the wall behind Teddy's chair. He smiled, but it was forced and weak. "How are you feeling after—" brief glance at Victor, then back to Teddy, "well, whatever happened while I was with your Mom."

"We talked," Teddy said, knowing that was not what Danny asked but what he had  _wanted_  to ask. "It was…I don't know. It was enough, you know?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Just enough?"

Teddy let out a laugh that sounded hollow even to his own ears, remembering the state he'd been in when Danny had entered the room. "Well, it was more than enough, actually."

"I didn't just ask you to come here because it was what Victor wanted, you know," Danny mused, and for some reason the way he was looking at Teddy made him immensely uncomfortable. This had to potential to all get far too heavy and deep – Teddy had had his fill of that kind of conversation for one lifetime.

"I think I'm well aware by now that you had an ulterior motive, Danny," said a little too seductively, but hey, he wanted Danny to get the hint.

The mood in the hospital room was sombre enough, in Teddy's honest opinion, without Danny making it even more serious.

"I knew you needed it too," Danny continued, ignoring Teddy's remark completely. "I figured that whatever was going on in your life, it wasn't too late for closure."

Teddy nodded towards Victor's still body. "Is he feeling any better?"

That diversion earned him a glare. "I didn't want you to have to live with regrets. I didn't want you to wake up someday and realise that you'd made a mistake. I wanted you to be able to say goodbye, even if you weren't ready to."

Teddy didn't know why Danny was saying all of this right now, but he felt something in his gut unspool. "I know. I appreciate it—well, I do now, anyway." There was a long pause. "You did the right thing."

"Hey, you're the one who came back.  _You_ did the right thing."

Without meaning to, Teddy snorted. " _I'm_  the one who left in the first place."

Another moment of silence, seconds too long, passed between them. "Maybe that was the right thing too."

Teddy looked up at this, certain he'd heard Danny wrong. "I think we both know you think differently."

"When you opened the door to me in Nashville, there was a split second where I wanted to turn around and get back in my car," Danny said, sitting forward. "Do you know why?"

Why did he keep changing the subject? It was after 3am, for God's sake. Didn't he know normal people's minds stopped functioning coherently enough to have this type of cryptic conversation hours ago?

"My dashing good looks were too much for you to handle?"

"Actually, it was because you  _looked_ content. Happy, even. You looked like you hadn't spent the last fourteen years sneaking worried glances over your shoulder; you looked like you felt safe. You looked like you belonged." Danny looked away, and for a second Teddy had this overwhelming fear that there might have been tears in his eyes, but the room was too dark for him to tell. "I didn't get it then, but I get it now: that was all I ever really wanted for you. Everything else, it was just me being selfish."

"You are the least selfish person I have ever met," Teddy corrected, but he didn't know how to fix everything else Danny had said. The truth was, even after all of this—the kisses, the talk with his father, the haunting glimpses of loss in his mother's eyes—he still didn't want to stay in New York. Sure, it wasn't the dreaded return he had thought it would be, but it wasn't his home, either. He  _did_ belong in Nashville—if coming back, staying with Danny and haphazardly re-connecting with his father had assured him of anything it was that his place was (and always would be) with his daughters.

"I was selfish then. I wanted you to come back. I didn't care what I was dragging you away from; I didn't care what I was dragging you back  _to._ I just wanted you here." He watched Danny tangle his hands together guiltily.

"I left without saying goodbye. I could have called, but I didn't. I could have written, but I didn't. For God's sake, I could have friended you on Facebook but I was too busy protecting myself. I think that's more selfish."

Danny looked up at him then, and there was a small smile beginning to form. "Why do you always do that? You always make yourself seem worse than I am."

"You make it pretty easy," Teddy , and then he returned Danny's half-smile. "Plus, it offers room for the irrational concern that you're too good for me to fester in my mind."

This had Danny almost laughing, and that was enough for Teddy. "I think I'm glad you went to Nashville," Danny said, voice soft, but more so for the benefit of the quiet stillness of the room. "You never would have flirted with me in front of your Dad before—even if he  _was_  completely out of it on medication."

"Jigs up, I'm afraid," Teddy admitted, leaning back in his chair and nodding towards his father again. "He knows—although I'm guessing you knew that already."

Danny blushed, or at least Teddy imagined he had—it was impossible to tell with the dim lamp by Victor's bedside as their only source of light. "He dropped a few hints, but I thought he was just really oblivious." An afterthought, "I assumed it ran in the family, but—"

If they had been sitting close enough, Teddy would have elbowed him in the stomach for that, but there was a bed and a dying man between them, so he couldn't. He settled for a measured glare. "You're hilarious."

"And your point is?"

They were quiet for a long time after that, lost in separate thoughts. For a while, he thought Danny might have dosed off, but then he'd hear him shifting in his own chair, or clearing his throat. It wasn't awkward necessarily, but there was something in the air that Teddy wanted to say and that was making him feel tense.

"Danny?" he relented, knowing for sure it was a terrible idea but choosing to bite the bullet anyway. "Can I ask you something?"

"Every time you say that to me, you take a year off my life, I swear," Danny sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just  _ask,_ Teddy _._ "

He knew what Danny was expecting: a question about them. Teddy didn't know if the fact it had nothing to do with their relationship would be a disappointment or a relief.

"What was it like…" he trailed off, feeling like a jerk for bringing this up. But Danny was blinking expectantly, and he couldn't just formulate something else on the spot. "What was it like when your parents died?"

It sounded stupid and insensitive the second it came out of his mouth. Well, actually, it had sounded stupid and insensitive  _before_ it came out of his mouth, but he had said it anyway. Now, he winced—part pained, part cringing. "I'm sorry: I shouldn't have asked that."

He thought Danny might reject the question altogether, but he didn't. He shrugged a little bit, instead. Then he shook his head. "It's alright. I don't mind talking about it."

Yet the preceding silence, the way he ducked his head, indicated he really did mind. Teddy was about to pour his heart out in apology for a second time when Danny spoke again.

"I don't really remember much about the accident—I was like, eleven, and I guess I was too traumatised to talk about it for a long time afterward. I knew even before they cut my Dad out of the car that he was dead, but they'd gotten my Mom out quickly, and I just assumed—" Danny broke off, but he didn't sound brok _en_ , and that was what mattered. He took a deep breath, and Teddy wanted to touch, to be a comfort. "I assumed that my luck wasn't shitty enough to lose both my parents in one day."

"I'm really sorry, Danny. It's awful. You were so young and it must have been such a shock." He was thinking of Maddie and Daphne, how they thought their worlds were ruined because their parents weren't together—at least they  _had_ parents. Being apart for just a few days had made Teddy guilty and the girls feel abandoned, what would be separated for the rest of their lives do? No child should lose a parent before they had even lost all their baby teeth; before they had even lost their innocence.

He felt Danny's eyes on him again, measuring his reaction. "I think it's awful regardless of what age you are," he said carefully. "I mean, sure, the situation was extra-shitty, especially because we didn't have any other family; because I blamed myself for a long time. But I don't think it matters how old you get, how close you are or how much time you have to prepare- you're never really ready to lose your Mom and Dad."

Teddy had a feeling they weren't talking about Danny anymore. "You came in just as I was in the middle of an emotional breakdown. You got your tears; the reaction you wanted. Congratulations, now can you call it a day?" He sounded bitter, dry, but Danny had been around him too long to do anything other than smile.

"I  _want_  you to know it's alright for us to talk about this."

"I think this is pretty much all we talk about." It was true, because even when the conversation wasn't directly about his father, it was the undertone, the unspoken impending tragedy Danny was too sensitive to acknowledge and Teddy had been too angry to want to.

Victor chose that moment to wake up—choking on his own breath, clutching the oxygen mask tightly. Danny and Teddy exchanged looks when he let out a low moan.

"Should I get a nurse?" Danny offered, already on his feet.

"You want some water?" Teddy reached for the jug on the table.

His father let out something that might once have been a laugh, and then he let go of the mask in favour for reaching a hand out on either side of him.

"Just—sit with me…please," he rasped, and they looked at each other again before perching on either side of the bed and taking his hand in their own.

It felt weird, holding his father's hand. As a child, it had made him feel so small and insignificant and cocooned, his palms were strong and his fingers longer than Martin's had been; as an adult, Teddy swallowed it up with his own, and he could feel the faint pulse beneath skin. It made the thought of Victor's disappearing completely become all the more real.

They just sat like that, as minutes turned to hours. Occasionally, Victor mumbled another thanks to Danny, another apology to Teddy. They took it in turns to brush off these words, to assure him it really didn't matter; they took it in turns to pretend they didn't notice the other one was blinking back tears.

"I should wait outside," Danny whispered, a machine beside Victor's bed beginning to make a less alert noise. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"Stay," Victor commanded, and when Danny looked at him, all Teddy was capable of doing was nodding, so he did.

To an onlooker, it might have been a father-son moment, but Danny had still been more of a son to Victor in the last few years than Teddy had been most of his life. It didn't come down to responsibility; it had been about a genuine concern, an unlikely bond Teddy couldn't understand and probably never would, but was no longer resentful toward.

It all happened pretty quickly after that—Victor offered them disconnected and random memories of Martha: their first date, how beautiful she had looked, and then he shifted to their wedding day, and tried to tell them a story about losing rings, but then he got confused, tripped over sentences and it was beginning to wear on him, obviously, so he settled for telling them one last time to look after her.

Even his last words were declarations of how much he loved her, and Teddy's breath was lost in the shadow of a love like that.

When misguided and disjointed sentences turned to quiet, when the machines around them rang a pitch higher and a nurse with kind eyes and a dark braid walked in, Teddy still hadn't really taken in what happened. Voices around him didn't break the concentration it was taking to try and unflip the switch that controlled his emotions. He felt like he was jet lagged, that unreal feeling of being somewhere but feeling like he wasn't.

Danny hands were on his shoulders, his arms, pulling him away from the bed. He was talking, had been talking for some time now, but Teddy was only just now acknowledging it. He'd felt so far away; he still did.

"Teddy," he murmured, but Teddy just stared at him, not feeling anything other than a crushing feeling in his chest and was this  _really_  what grief was supposed to feel like? When Henry had died, had been dying, he had felt like his insides were being put through a shredder—he'd cried and he had been angry and he had bargained, but he hadn't felt this level of denial or acceptance, this heavy haze of  _that- can't- have- been it._

The worst part, the very worst part, was that there was some relief there. Buried deep, hidden under memories and hurt and he wasn't supposed to feel like this goddammit because they had  _fixed_ things.

He'd given Victor peace, so why did he feel more tortured than ever?

"Let's go home," Danny was saying, and Teddy allowed him to pull him off the bed, out of the room, down the corridor. He didn't look back to Victor's lifeless body; he didn't stop to put his thoughts together. He just followed Danny, because somehow that felt like the right thing to do—because right now, he was perfectly okay with Danny taking control. "We can come back later and—"

He might have finished that sentence, but Teddy didn't hear him. He had said his goodbyes all night—what was the purpose of coming back to look at a corpse?

Danny didn't bother to make small talk on the drive home. He was upset too, although he was trying to pretend he wasn't. Teddy felt like he should be offering some sort of comfort, but he was too numb to feel guilt for not being able to muster up the right words.

According the clock in the car, it was 6:21am. How long had he been sitting by Victor's beside, cradling his hand and feeling like he was suffocating, while Danny got himself together and tried to coax him to leave?

"My Mom," maybe the first words he had said in hours, and Danny almost slammed the breaks in shock. "We need to tell her."

Except they were pulling into  _Danny's_  apartment complex.

"We can tell her later.  _Together_. You need to rest first."

It was Danny's idea of support, no doubt, but it just made the whole thing seem even more unreal. How would putting it off to later make any difference? Victor would still be dead at lunch time.

"Come on." He hadn't realised the car had stopped, hadn't noticed the passenger door being opened or Danny standing in front of him. In that moment, Teddy felt like a hopeless child, but then Danny was good with kids—he could fix them, and maybe that was what Teddy needed.

What he really needed, above all else, was for Danny to kiss him, but the second he climbed out of the car and angled his head—sloppily, but Teddy felt drunk with desperation, lust devouring the empty space of his insides—Danny pulled away, shut the car door and took his hand instead.

"You need to lie down," Danny instructed, looking and leading him away and Teddy should have felt rejected, if he had been able to feel anything at all.

Right now, he just really hoped Danny meant he needed to lie down  _with him._


	23. Teenage strops and serious conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter* I swear I don't disappear for weeks just to be a jerk- I have honestly been bogged down with life and school and people. This chapter isn't even that great to make up for it, but there's another one coming that I hope will be better.
> 
> If you're still reading this story, thank you so much. If you've grown tired of my lapses in updating and given up entirely I do not blame you one bit. Regardless, I love you for supporting me this far!
> 
> More is coming (soon) I promise!

He was very mercifully pretending not to notice Teddy's advances.

It wasn't that he wasn't interested- if this were any other time he'd likely been completely on board, but Victor had literally just died and Teddy was a mess, even if he didn't want to admit it.

Not to mention the fact they were both exhausted.

"Go lie down," Danny instructed when they got inside the apartment. He eased Teddy's shoulders out of his coat, but he was blinking numbly, and Danny doubted he even realised.

"Aren't you coming?" Teddy said as he turned, voice small.

He knew what he was supposed to say-  _"no_ ,"- but he knew it wasn't a good idea for Teddy to be alone right now, either.

"I'll be there in a minute," he said, wincing when Teddy seemed to take this as another go ahead to try and kiss him. Danny stepped back, de-tangling their hands. "I just want to check on the kids," he said hastily, hoping the mention of reality might have been enough to ruin the moment.

Caleb was still sleeping, but Sofie was awake and sitting by the desk in her bedroom, dressing gown pulled tightly around her. She looked up when he poked his head round the door.

"Are you just getting in?" she asked softly, and he thought of all the times he'd had to work late and she'd been left to look after her brother. How she'd always waited up, no matter how late it was, just to make sure he was okay.

He nodded and stepped into her room, closing the door firmly behind him, thankful for the distraction from Teddy—then feeling guilty immediately after that thought. "You couldn't sleep?"

"I keep thinking about Martin- uh, Teddy. I feel so bad for him." She paused, blinked, and there were tears on the end of her dark lashes. "I don't know what we'd do if we lost you."

He'd called her from the hospital a little while before Victor died- mostly to check that Caleb was alright and to admit that he probably wouldn't be home tonight. He had thought she couldn't tell how serious things with Victor were, but his tone had probably given it away.

Danny reached for her hand in the darkness. "Hey, don't think like that." He looked down at the hand inside his own- long thin fingers with painted nails to stop her from biting them back to the quick. He smiled, because even though she had the hands of a woman she still felt like his little girl.

She was quiet for a few minutes, lost in thought. Then she pulled her hand away, folded her arms and lifted her chin a fraction. He sat back on her bed expectantly. Her eyes narrowed. "So are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Families aren't supposed to have secrets," she said evenly. It took him a minute to realize that they were talking about Caleb.

He thought about denying the fact there was anything wrong- but then burying his head in the sand hadn't worked so well in the past. Besides, Sofie was too smart to believe him. "Honey, it's complicated."

"If you won't tell me, I'll just make Caleb," she countered.

"Speaking of Caleb," he said, hoping she might not notice his attempts at de-railing her. "Can you take him to school today?"

"We're walking him to school now?" she raised an eyebrow sceptically. Danny rolled his eyes and dug into the pocket of his jacket, handing her his car keys.

"Drive him," he explained.

She smirked. "Is this your way of saying ' _get out of the house and let me comfort my boyfriend_?'"

Great. Even his daughter thought he was going to take advantage.

"Maybe it's my way of saying I trust you?" He tried.

Sofie didn't look convinced. "What time do you need the car back?"

"We have Teddy's rental, take your time."

She considered this. "Do I have to pick Caleb up?"

"We'll see." Ideally, Danny knew he should, but he guessed that by that point he'd be with Teddy at Martha's house, a situation that wasn't exactly easy to extract himself from. Silence passed between them, but then he found himself saying, "Sofie, have I been too…?" he waved his hand, not quite sure what he wanted to say.

He wondered how she knew what he was talking about, given his thoughts had nothing to do with their conversation. He guessed that perhaps after this long, reading him had become as easy as reading her was to him.

"Protective?" Sofie offered. Still not sure that really covered his failings, Danny nodded. "Sure. But you're our  _Dad_. You wouldn't be doing your job right if you weren't."

What he really wanted Sofie to say was that he wasn't remotely responsible for Caleb's problems, but he didn't even believe that himself.

He'd found Teddy perched on the end of his bed, staring aimlessly at a pair of socks tossed by the laundry basket Silently, Danny slipped Teddy's shirt off, and when Teddy chose this moment to put his hands on either side of Danny's face, he dodged the touch.

"You need to rest," Danny insisted, pushing Teddy back gently onto the pillows and wrapping the duvet around him.

"You're not going to stay?"

It shouldn't have been, but the desperation in his voice was enough to have Danny relenting, lying back fully clothed with a duvet between them. He expected more of a proposition from Teddy, but now he imagined reality was sinking in, all earlier forced passion or sincere neediness had gone.

They lay there for about an hour, neither one of them talking or falling asleep. Danny felt like there were a thousand things he should say, but not a single one of them did he expect Teddy to take remotely well.

The silence was eventually broke by WW3 breaking out in Danny's kitchen.

"I'm  _not_ going to school!" Caleb howled, and the hitch in his voice had Danny getting up off of the bed and making his way into the hall. When Caleb saw him, his eyes widened even more. " _You_ said I wouldn't have to."

For a split second, Danny could not for the life of him remember saying anything of the sort. Then he recalled their conversation yesterday. "Correction, I said we would  _talk_ about a transfer- in the meantime, you still have to go to your current school  _and_ it was only on the condition you..." he trailed off, remembering Sofie was in the room. He gave Caleb a pointed look.

"Wait, why is he transferring schools?" Sofie looked completely confused. She looked from Danny to Caleb and back again. "Does  _anybody_  want to fill me in?"

"I will! I'll go see someone today if you want me to, just don't make me go back." It was the acceptance that he needed help that Danny wanted to hear, but the problem was Danny knew Caleb was only saying it to get out of school. The problem was that the second Danny relented, he fully expected Caleb to resort back to refusing to talk to anyone.

"I called your principle yesterday- she wants you to meet with her third period."

"You  _told_ her?" Caleb looked around wildly, like an animal caught in a trap. Danny took a step toward him.

"Caleb, I had to," he said calmly. He placed a hand on either of the boy's shoulders. "You walked out of school, I couldn't just act like nothing happened. Anyway, she just wants to help."

Caleb buried his head in his hands. "You don't  _understand._ "

"Maybe not, but I'm trying. Listen, we can talk about it later." He didn't mention the appointment with the school's guidance counsellor, but he figured sending Caleb to school with the added anxiety probably wasn't the best idea in the world. "Just give it a shot— _one_  day. Please?" He knew it was low, but he rested his hand in Caleb's hair. "For me?"

He could feel Sofie's eyes on the back of his neck. Caleb sighed, exasperated. "I can't do this," he murmured quietly.

Danny felt his heart crack open again, Caleb's words acting as an icy wind stinging the wound. "Of course you can. I wouldn't make you go if I didn't know you were strong enough. I wouldn't make you go if I didn't think it was in your best interests."

"It's in my best interests to go to another school, why don't you get  _that_?"

Danny looked to Sofie for help, but if the way she was glaring back at him was any indication, she was likely to take Caleb's side just to spite him. "You can't just stop going and then one day turn up somewhere else. It doesn't work like that. These things take time."

"I feel sick," Caleb tried, and Danny wanted to give in, but he didn't.

"Then maybe your sister can pick you up early?" It was a compromise, which Danny firmly believed was not him relenting and allowing Caleb to have his way.

Sofie never took her eyes off of Danny. He wondered if Caleb could sense the tension. He wondered if he was supposed to be annoyed, instead of proud, that his daughter suddenly seemed to fiercely protective of her brother.

"Sure," she said, after a moment, and that seemed to ignite something in Caleb's eyes.

" _How_  early?"

"We'll talk about it in the car," Sofie said, taking Caleb's coat from the rack. "Come on, I'm driving you."

Caleb looked to Danny wearily. "Is something wrong?"

He considered lying, saying he'd been called into work, but there wasn't much point. Sofie would probably tell Caleb anyway. "Teddy's father died last night."

Technically it had been this morning, but that hardly seemed to matter.

"Oh," Caleb looked down at his hands. "Is he okay?"

He doubted Caleb actually cared, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. It was progress, at the very least.

"Not really," Danny admitted, keeping his voice low. "We have some things to take care of- funeral arrangement and stuff like that. I'll be home for dinner though."

Caleb and Sofie exchanged looks that he knew had ' _yeah right_ ' written all over them. "Promise?" Caleb pressed.

Danny smiled and ruffled his hair. "I promise. Now get out of here: you're going to be late."

"Come on," Sofie said, too cheerily as she urged her brother out the door. She stopped only to hiss at him, once Caleb was out of earshot, "We aren't finished with this conversation."

Before he could say anything else, she slammed the door behind her.

They were gone for all of five minutes when Danny went back into the bedroom and Teddy was sitting up, looking around for him like he'd only now realized he wasn't in the room.

"How are you feeling?" Danny asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Are you hungry?"

Teddy's answer was to sit up a little straighter, to inch close enough so that their breaths were mingled together, to slide his hand under Danny's shirt.

He had captured Danny's lip in a kiss that tasted of regret before Danny could even comprehend what had just happened. He pressed his hands firm against Teddy's chest and far too reluctantly and- as gently as possible- pushed him away whilst extracting himself carefully from the kiss.

"What?" And he had never witnessed Teddy- at least  _as_ Teddy- look so rejected before, and he felt a pang of guilt before his moral compass could take over.

"I just don't think this is a good idea right now." Clarifying, because Teddy looked completely confused, Danny said, "your father- I just, I feel like this isn't the way to deal with what's just happened."

Teddy drew back, folding his arms across his chest and practically pouting. "What are we, Danny?"

Danny stilled, because he thought they were deliberately refusing to ask each other that question, but maybe the last few hours had alerted Teddy to fact that life was too short: that they'd already wasted too long side-stepping serious conversations. While this seemed abrupt to Danny, he could understand why it was coming now—because he'd just had the rug pulled out from underneath him, and he needed some sort of validation that this part of his old life was still secure.

"I don't know," Danny said honestly, tilting his head. "I guess we're two guys who need to find a way to make this work with one thousand miles between us."

Silence. And then, "you could move to Nashville."

"And leave Caleb here?" Teddy frowned at his tone, and Danny wondered if he had even considered the fact that Caleb couldn't be taken out of the state. " _You_  could move back to New York."

"Rayna and I alternate weeks with the girls: they can't go to two different schools in two different states," he countered, but all Danny could hear was another excuse as to why he couldn't stay; Danny knew Teddy would not come back for reasons much greater than his family. Whatever demons he had here, he would rather go on running than face them, and after the day and night he had just had, Danny didn't have the heart to blame him. Teddy buried his face in his hands. "This is all such a mess."

Danny considered denying that statement, but there really wasn't much point, because they both knew it was true. This  _was_ a mess. A mess which was likely to entail an awful lot of compromise and sacrifice, something neither of them had proven to be very good at. Regardless, it was mess they would have to navigate their way through together, and that much at least Danny wouldn't change.

"We'll think of something," Danny said, praying his voice conveyed even a shred of confidence.

Teddy did not look convinced. "Are we rushing things? Should we even be thinking about stuff like this?"

"I'm not sure if sixteen years qualifies as 'rushing things."

"That's not funny- you know what I mean," Teddy said, but there was something that might once have passed for a smile tugging at his lips, despite the glistening of dry tears still on his cheeks. While Danny had been in the kitchen, he must have gotten upset. "It's just... it's not exactly like we can  _date._ "

"We'll figure it out," Danny assured him, soothing this time as he reached for Teddy's hand. "We can visit each other, right? It's not like you have a city to run or anything." He was joking, to lighten the mood, but it evidently wasn't working, and just served to make Teddy looked even more stressed, as though he had forgotten about his job while he was here.

"I have another three years to serve in my term," he murmured, but it came out like a groan, and Danny almost felt sorry for him- if it hadn't been for the fact that Teddy had gotten himself into that predicament as well. Honestly, the man seriously needed to make better choices. Or maybe he needed to start listening to Danny.

"You must still get holidays."

"Sure, but they're centred around bank holidays- when I have the girls."

"Then we can come visit you," Danny said, and he felt guilty for being surprised when Teddy did not flinch at his use of ' _we_.' "Or would that not be good for your mayoral image?"

He knew how this sounded, but he was still genuinely joking. Except this time, it had an edge to it that he couldn't hide. Before, Martin's parents had been the reason for his reluctance to be with Danny. He could just imagine that this time, it would be Teddy's career.

"I don't care about that," Teddy said, but there was hesitance in his voice, and after a second, he added, "maybe I should just quit."

Danny doubted he would, even if it came to it, even if he was child enough to make him choose- which he wasn't.

"If it would be more convenient for you we can always avoid each other for another year. Hey, we managed fourteen already, what's another?" Danny asked dryly, and then he remembered why they were having this conversation: because Victor had just died, and Teddy needed reassurance. He frowned. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Teddy looked exasperated. "That's not what I meant."

"I know." Another pang of guilt hit him. Danny sighed and shook his head. "Listen, if I have to sell a kidney to be able to afford rent on a second apartment in Nashville, I will. I'll do whatever it takes, and we'll find some way to work this out. But we aren't going to get there overnight."

For once, this seemed to be enough for Teddy. He looked at his hands. "You seriously think we'll find a way around this?"

"We have to," Danny said, unsettled by Teddy's doubt. "Right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Teddy—" His lips were on Danny's again, no poise, just need. Danny returned the kiss, but then pulled back. "We have things to discuss."

Teddy blinked, confused. "I thought we just did."

Danny pushed himself off the bed. "Get dressed," he ordered. "We need to go see your mother."

For a moment, he thought Teddy was going to refuse. It was a natural reaction to want to curl into a ball and fall to pieces when you lost someone you'd loved, but it was a luxury that Teddy didn't have right now. They had plans to make, wishes to honour, and most of all a woman's heart to break—there wasn't time for wallowing.

 


End file.
